Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Skill
by cursedpurity
Summary: AU Xover Harry discovers magic before Hogwarts and uses a muggle game for guidance. Being Revised.
1. The Sorceror Who Lived

Disclaimer, Give to he that owns it his earnings, my earnings for this is simply your reviews, i have no money, nor have a real need or want of it, so don't sue me. playgarism doesn't really count on this site anyways, unless of course i steal froma different author, so drop it. 

i don't own Harry Potter, Diablo, Diablo 2, or any other trademarked figure, i only own my OC Samuel Batoshin and he's not even in this story... Please enjoy the rewritten version of Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Skill, Chapter One: The Sorceror Who Lived.

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill CHAPTER 1 The Sorcerer-Who-Lived

Nearly eight years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursley's front door; it crept into their living rrom, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Eight years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different colored bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

Not that either boy was there at the moment. They were both at school at the moment. Or should we say that Dudley was at school, for Harry Potter was on it. The green eyed boy with unruly black hair was sitting on the school wide eyed and unbelieving. Just moments prior, he was running away from his cousin's gang. His cousin, Dudley, had collapsed from running after him ages ago. Now Harry was sitting on a cement slab which was connected to a gutter, in other words, he was on the school roof.

It finally began to click, why his family hated him, and why his uncle's daily bellows always pertained to, "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" or "FREAK!"

The thoughts of being a wizard did have its perks. Yet, there were two big problems. First, the Durlseys hated anything unDursleyish. Second, how was he supposed to use magic? He had no spell book, no nothing, what could he have done?

What could he change that could make this anomaly in his life permanent?

Once Harry was home, sitting in his cupboard, he began to concentrate on himself, and began to memorize his entire body and how it felt. His eyes were tired, his throat tight from holding in a yawn. His lips were dry and His back ached a little. His feet were sore and the grains of the cot were ruff on his feet through the holes in his socks. not to mention the draft that came through the crack at the bottom of the cupboard door, because of the draft there were rather large goosebumps running down Harry's skin.

He began to slowly remove that things that he were feeling in an attempt to meditate. He didn't know what it was, but he hoped that it was kind of like a six sense that came to frutition when all your other senses did not work. The only thing that he began to concentrate on was the tightening in his chest, the one that he felt was hiding something, the only part of him that actually felt warm.

Moments later Harry opened his eyes still concentrating on the warmth inside, relishing in the feeling as he imagined the warmth become a blazing inferno of heat. He felt the warmth inside of him, double and then triple as everything outside of his senses seemed to get colder, and his own vision seemed to blend. until all his saw was nothing that could be seen. Only felt. He knew what it was, forcing this warmth into his hand, he began to envision it in the shape of a lightbulb. Needless to say Harry was astonished to see w flash of light that could have blinded most, and then a dimming othe flash until it formed a large unstable orb of... Magic.

Over the rest of the night he concentrated on his magic... trying to envision a hand, made out of his magic, grabbing the various things inside his small cupboard. Needless to say it was hard. He could force it out like before but the only thing that would happen was, if he used small bursts the small toy soldier that he was focusing on, on the shelf next to him, would either shake and quiver or it would act like a rubber ball and bounce against the wall, only to smack Harry in the face, threatening to give him a black eye or matching scar on the other side of his forehead. Over the next few days Harry managed to be able to concentrate on it enought to realize that in order to get an obkject to move correctly you have to be able to push on it from all sides, forcing it to move steadily. Harry resolved that moving an object with magic was like moving it in space, too much force and it might never stop. Of course Harry found out the hard way that using force on an object from all sides might not be the best thing. Too much force and you might completely crush the item you want to move.

He knew that if he ever wanted to move on his own, he could just do the same thing that landed him on the school, he had to do the same to get himself off the school any way. Teleporting wasn't all that draining, but it hut his insides, just as much as his out... he basically felt like the toy soldier that he just crushed with his magic, and then he felt like the same process in reverse, it was really strange and it made his ears pop. He only wondered if this was how old Kris Kringle felt when he had to be stuffed down the chimney.

It wasn't until he started hearing Dudley's new computer making noise that the little knobs and wheels really begant o start turning. Listening, Harry soon realized it must have been the new game 'Diablo'. It was an RPG that had the main character, one of three heroes, each that could do magic and had to defeat the various hidous beasts and villians of the expanse of dugeons that had been lain beneath the church of the game's village.

Of course if the Dursleys every realized that the game had magic in it, Dudley would be in a right fix, or if they found out Harry knew about the game.

Early in the next week, when Aunt Petunia was preoccupied in the kitchen and Harry had a rare few minutes alone, he started his plan, Mission: Stealth, or Stealt(he)h(andbook). Smelling the potroast, one of the very few dishes that Harry did not have to help prepare, simply because Uncle Vernon insisted that Petunia use the Liquoured Gravy approach that night, Harry opened the small door to the cupboard. He crossed the cold and polished wooden floor and the equally immaculate foyer carpet, making his way to the bottom of the staircase.

Stepping over each of the squeaky stairs, Harry made his way into the upstairs hallway, glad that the Master bedroom was not the one of the beds over the Kitchen.

Opening the door to the bedroom, Harry realized how disgusting Dudley's room was. There was no smell, but everything was tossed about and some huge rag was covering the space of the floor. Picking up the slightly yellow cloth Harry saww something that threathened to make him hurl. It was a turd stain, meaning that these were Dinky Diddlywinks prized tightywhities. Harry quickly tossed them on the otherside of the room noticing that it was about to land on something else. Which he was perfectly fine with, the only problem was that Harry didn't realize until two minutes later that the Handbook was now under the disgusting piece of filth that Dudley used to cover his nether regions.

Harry quickly used a hanger to pull off the rag, glad that the turd stain was facing the other way (away from the book). Wiping the book down with one of Dudley's newest shirt and then tossing it on to the ever-offending rag, he left the room for the safety of his very hygenic cupboard. Harry took a detour though and went to the bathroom, he was glad that there was bleach under the sink.

When he had returned to the safety of his cupboard, he opened the Diablo Handbook. Inside of the black paperback there was a long list of spells. Next to that were a list of various statistics and attributes, Strength, Magic, Dexterity and Vitality, and Life, Mana, 'Chance to Hit', 'Resist Lightning', 'Resist Fire' and a bunch of other attributes that would not matter to Harry. While he knew that many things about himself he would not be able to change very easily from 'Zero', he knew that he could always change his main capabilities, like, Strength, Magic and Dexterity. Only time and training could increase his Vitality and Life and Magic reserves. And only dangerous training could even hope to have him develop an immunity to any part of the different elements that his magic could take on.

Looking down the long list in front of him he began to pull off things that he wanted to learn in a list. Firebolt, Healing, Lightning, Identify, Fire Wall, Town Portal, Stone Curse, Infravision, Fireball, Guardian, Chain Lightning, Flame Wave, Doom Serpents, Invisibility, Sentinal, Golem, and Repair made Harry's first list.

Things like Blood Boil, Apocalypse, Etherealize, Staff Recharge, Trap Disarm, Mindmace, Elemental, and others were just too hard or draining.

Under the initial list were five other pictures that showed the last five unnamed spells in the game. one looked like a burning skull, there was a witchcraft skull and an arrow going in a circle, there was a weird wave that could have been a blood type of attack, another one that could be a bull's skull, and another one that Harry thought to be a rune. but without a description, it was hard to know what to do.

Out of the list Harry decided to try doing only a few of them, some that he wanted to do seemed to be very hard and dangerous. Firebolt, Healing, Town Portal, Stone Curse, Guardian, Golem, and Repair. Anything else would come if Harry could even master all of these.

Author's Notes

While researching for this chapter's second release i have found many things that i want to add, hence my pointing this out in the last chapter. all flames, suggestions and comments will be addressed from this point on today is April 3, 2007. and i espect a massive surge in hits now that my writing is getting that much better. And the list of spells now uses spells from the original edit of Diablo, one that never made its way to any store or website. Because Dinky Diddykins only deserves the best of everything.

Here is the list of things that Harry currently knows... I saw this type of list in some Harry/Arcadia story that i want to find again, it was awesome...

Harry knows...

Lumos Solem

Telekinesis

Teleport / Apparition

Some of these i will make so that he can't learn them until the actual summer excursion to the Kingdom of K.


	2. The Vanishing Glasses

Disclaimer, Give to he that owns it his earnings, my earnings for this is simply your reviews, i have no money, nor have a real need or want of it, so don't sue me. playgarism doesn't really count on this site anyways, unless of course i steal froma different author, so drop it.

i don't own Harry Potter, Diablo, Diablo 2, or any other trademarked figure...

Please enjoy the rewritten version of Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Skill, Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glasses.

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill CHAPTER 2The Vanishing Glasses

Looking over his list Harry decided that trying to repair things might be the best to do first. In theory it seemed to be the easiest possible thing, and if he would one day be able to be powerful enough to actually help people, repairing things should be useful. And if it turns out that he reaches his limits with that skill, to be able to repair stuff and appear out of nowhere from a different place entirely, was enough for him.

While he sat there thinking about what he could practice on, he remembered his glasses. Dudley had broken the damn things so many times. It was the perfect thing to try it on. If he could fix it, he could make it harder then before, right?

Over the next week, in his spare time, he would run his fingers along the many cracks of his glasses. And anytime that the glasses were fixed completely, Dudley would end up breaking them.

As the breaks soon became more serious, and Harry's prowess in telekinesis grew, Harry was able to mold the glasses back together by just concentrating on them. He would watch in wonder as the broken pieces began to seal themselves together.

It ended up coming to a point where the glasses were simply the magic holding the glasses together. It was then that Harry knew, he knew it was possible manipulate magic.

Harry studied the glasses as he sat there on his cot, he doubted that anyone else could tell or would be able to tell, but his glasses seemed to glow. Testing something, he removed the lenses from the glasses' frame. After that he tried to focus on absorbing all the magic from the glasses, leaving only the lenses untouched. The glasses then fell apart without it's magical adhesive, into a small pile of fine plastic dust. Apparently, the damage done to his glasses was far more extensive, then first was believed. It took Harry five more minutes of concentrating on the form of his glasses to get to a point were the lenses would fit in the glasses again. One more day of practice, and he managed to get his glasses looking like new again.

Firebolt, Healing, Town Portal, Stone Curse, Guardian, and Golem, were the techniques that still remained on the list.

The next week came and went with Harry's attempts to create golems. He thought that if he concentrated enough with his magic as he did with his glasses, he could change the structure of things and form it into the shape of a golem, he knew that the hardest part would be to make the creature sentient. Boy was he wrong. It was definately one of those things that was harder than it looked. 

He concentrated hard on the basic shape of the Golem one more time in frustration. Pouring his magical essence into his mental image of the stone protector. His magic once more formed the shape in front of him, but he finally realized the problem. There was no substance that the magic was contorted with. He was trying to go from skipping over a stone, to leaping over a mountain.

Holding his hadn above the ground he looked deep inside of himself for the power that he was looking for. He pushed it out slowly, making sure that the type of golem that he wanted to created was created by making sure that the magic was as adhesive as possible. lifting his hand the golem would rise forming itsself, or at least that's what Harry wanted.

After one more week of study and practice, Harry had finally managed to get a decent sized golem 'summoned'. He even began to give it sentient thought patterns. He was using his gardening skills as a means to perfect it. While weeding, he could turn his concentration on the offending soil. The soil began to shape itself around Harry's magic, and walking away, dispelling itself once it was out of the way. It saved Harry the time it would normally take to shovel the deeper weed roots away, and the movement of the aged soil, kept it fresh and healthy. Just the way Aunt Petunia liked it. She didn't need to know the way it was kept healthy after all.

Studying his creation once more he began to think of the uses of his summoning skill. He could change the shape of the golem into something more universally appropraite like a skeleton. He could easily create equally temporary weapons, and other things as well.

Remembering the library at school he waited for that following Monday. Before he began the long walk home, he went to the library, looking through the fantasy novels there, there wasn't much in the ways of enlightening research, but he did see a picture on the cover of one book. There was a battle taking place, there was one wizard, orbs of light floating, surrounding him, lightning, fire and ice were seen in his defense. His enemy was a peculiar man. The man wasn't evil but he looked to be dark. His appearance was like that of a skeleton with skin, there were skeletons surrounding him, doing his bidding, protecting their master.

It was then that Harry knew what he would focus on with his summoning skills. He would become a master of magic, of both sides of the magical spectrum. Racing home, he completely forgot to borrow the book, and settled in his cupboard to train.

Over the course of time until his tenth birthday, he trained his summoning skills and the augmentations of the summons. He had a jar filled with soil in his cupboard that he used regularly for training. With it he would summon a skeleton, or a weapon. When he summoned a skeleton, he used his focus on it until he could flick the one foot tall wonder, with the back of it arm, and not shatter the creature. He found that the sentient skill of what he expected the skeletons and golems to be was progressing, as well as his skill to change the summons from fragile soil to metallic steel in durability. He even began to whittle away at the amount of magic needed to sustain the shape of the skeleton and the amount of soil needed to bring a life-size golem into being. The weapons he summoned were durable enough to be used in matches against his creations as well. So while he would be alone and expected to do work, he would create the best weapon he could, which would be a crude sword, and he would fight a skeleton with an equally crude weapon. His golem cycling would do the work expected.

Currently he could only summon a single skeleton, a golem, and a single weapon all at the same time. He knew that sooner or later that he might be able to bring that number up. And the durability of the summons had increased. The skeletons were strong enough to be assumed to be made from steel instead of bone. The golems that he made seemed to be made up more so of stones then dirt. And the weapons were currently under scrutiny. They were not of the best quality, but they did the job. He could however only create swords, scythes, and other crude weapons. he did realize that he would probably lose the battle or detail and skill here.

All in all he felt that his powers were reaching a barrier in the ways of summoning when he realized something. Bone was the easiest and most durable summon that he could manipulate, so while he knew that it would limit his imagination of use in the summon department, he began the next week concentrating his time into making a technique. He decided to make a spear like attack that would be similar to a bullet.

It was very easy to generate the Bone Spear technique. The Bone Spear attack consisted of Harry concentrating his magic into the form of a bone spinal cord spear that would shoot towards the enemy at high speeds, piercing the body, and impaling the enemy effectively.

It was a simple idea that was very effective. It was when this happened that Harry began to consider his powers. He realized that making the powers uniform in detail he could make his skills develop easier. Instead of variety in his training, he made every thing the same in each skill, improving it, yes, but making it simple and efficient nonetheless. The training in efficiency helped Harry to lower the amount of power he put into the spell, and with enough practice he could make a life sized golem or skeleton come to life with just a single pebble or cup of dirt.

Author's Notes

Not much was changed here, only some detailing.

Here is the list of things that Harry currently knows...

Harry knows...

Lumos lvl. 1

Lumos Solem Maximus lvl. 1

Telekinesis lvl. 5

Teleport / Apparition lvl. 2

Clay Golem lvl. 3

Golem Mastery lvl. 3

Raise Skeleton lvl. 1

Skelton Mastery lvl. 6

Bone Spear lvl. 1 


	3. The Portal to No One

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill CHAPTER 3The Portal to No One

Over the last six months until his graduation from primary school, his training in magic had doubled. It was much harder to do as he wished with his magic, it was beginning to solidify, and mold itself. He hoped that by the time that it was finished that he would have finished his elemental powers.

During the first month of training he managed to finally form his magic outside of his body without a mold like dirt or stones. Floating in front of him currently was a small orb of magic, it floated without purpose, he never knew that magic could be like this, But he knew that on top of whatever else he could do a simple light bulb of magic, was added to the list of techniques.

It took him another month after that to change the orb of magic into an orb that resembled another element. But the end product was very powerful. He could change his magic into fire, ice, and thunder. His manipulations of the elements did not extend too far. For while he found that when he discovered that his previous boundaries could be passed with the elemental studies, there was only so much room to grow.

Over the third month he managed to master 'Fire Bolt', 'Ice Bolt', 'Charged Bolt', and thanks to some experimenting, that included a burnt rose bed, the 'Fire Wall' Technique was mastered as well. His growth seemed to hit a ceiling but there still were a few things that he wished to master from his list.

Healing, Telekinesis, Town Portal, Stone Curse, Mana Shield, and Guardian, were the techniques that still remained on the list.

Surprising himself he found that Stone Curse and Healing were very easy techniques to master, even with the magical celing coming in close.

For stone curse it was like creating a golem that couldn't move, he tried it on Dudley once, with laughable and results ones as well, that's what made it so easy to master healing though. He felt it was a dire need for healing that saved him.

He crossed off Mana sheild, after wasting a month's worth of training on it, and Guardian was crossed off after the Golems he attempted to manipulate to be the casters, blew up.

Soon it came to be one month and a half before his primary school graduation, and he only had two more techniques to master from his list, Telekinesis and Town Portal.

Harry assumed that telekinesis shouldn't be too hard, he felt deep in die that it should be possible to learn it as well. With one week's training in the Telekinesis, the skeleton that he was using for practice, blasted halfway across the yard, smashing many of Aunt Petunia's prized flower beds. After that Harry began to solely train the Portal technique.

This is where Harry's concentration reigned for most of the month, to the Dursley's entertainment his school work began to suffer as well.

Harry's training in the portal creation was basically non-existent progresswise until one week prior to the beginning of summer.

Harry sat on the cot in his cupboard, concentrating on the change he desired. A small blue orb hovered a few inches above his hand. Currently he was trying a new approach. He was focusing on the orb expanding into the shape of a mirror. Seeing his magic change in front of his eyes was very heart warming after the last month of trial and error. It floated like a hanging blue plate. Now came the tough part, concentrating on his last lecture on black holes in science at school he began to see the mirror implode on itself a small whirl of magic. He concentrated on the swirling magic and willed it to show an image of the location that the other end was supposed to be at. For the destination he was focusing on the inside of the front door.

Little did he know, his subconscious had a very different view on where his home was supposed to be.

Seeing the image come to life he was surprised to see the inside of what could have been mistaken as the inside of the very Diablo game Harry got his inspiration from. The ruins of a house lay in front of him. From what he could see in the there were trees in the distance, but the rubble consumed the area. Panicking at the state of the swirling world he viewed through the portal he forced more of his magic through the portal and watched as the other end of the portal formed itself. The image righted itself instead of swirling around continuously, so Harry knew that the portal was done correctly. After sensing the amount of magic that the portal drained, Harry knew that if there was ever danger this could not be used.

Harry jumped though the portal. 


	4. The Keep of the Wizard

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 4 The Keep of the Wizard

Harry shot out of the portal like an human cannonball, and landed in a pile of rubble. He stood clumsily to brush himself off, only spreading the dust and grim on his clothing to his hands. Kooking behind him, he decided it was safe to breathe for the moment, Thanks to his luck, the portal the he arrived in was still open.

Assessing his location, he made mental note to only use the portal technique when there was absolutely no escape or other choice regardless of most situations, because if this is what his magic thought home was it was clearly mistaken.

The surrounding area was a smoldering pile of rubble. Smoke, dust and an acumulation of old newspapers was all that Harry could see aside from the pillars of green flames that covered the wooden supports of whatver structure that had been standing there prior to this fire.

He, at first took this damage to be at the very most a day's worth of damage, but the newspaper clipping clinging to his leg, due to a gust of wind that blew it from the ground, was dated over nine years prior. He immediately decided that something powerful had to have done this, that smoke and flame could still be seen, almost as if a part of hell had been here.

As harry began to walk around the plot of flaming land, he began to hear noises, he threw caution to the wind as he tried to reason that the fire was making him hear things. In the distance, a single patch of untouched land sat in almost a complete ring of fire, and on that plot of land, a two intricately designed grave markers sat, both had the same inscription and the only parts that varied was the part that said the name and their connection to the world.

Lily Potter, Loving Wife and Mother.

James Potter, Loving Husband and Father.

And so it was, Harry Potter began to cry, in front of the graves of the two most important people in his life, and the only ones that he couldn▓t remember.

⌠I guess that this truly is my home, but I want to know what happened, why did they get buried here surrounded by a burning pile of rubble if they died in a car crash?"

Harry soon got up to investigate the area, he looked for a sign that might let him know what happened so many years ago.

In the distance he saw it, behind the portal, from his point of view a small statue was erected. Jogging up to it he saw a couple holding a small baby and a hooded figure advancing towards him, it was a fairly basic statue, completely bronze, but under the hood of the figure harry saw it two glowing red eyes, upon closer inspection Harry found that they were in fact two small rubies that were set to incite fear if the light from the fire would reflect off the eyes.

But before Harry would return to the prison world of the Dursley▓s, he read the attached small plaque▓s inscription...

Godric▓s Hollow- October 31st

This site is property of the Potter family line, and the destruction of two heroic light wizards, as well as the evil foe that struck them down. May we mourn the loss of our friends and family as the world rejoices its hero, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Statue dedicated by the Ministry of Magic.

Harry finally understood the only reason that his parents would be buried here, they were the two heroic wizards that saved the world, and he must have been the hero. He knew then that if he was supposed to ever rejoin the world, he would one day be faced with troubles, so he would refine his skills until he was told to rejoin this world of war. That didn▓t mean that he▓d have to like the fact that he was placed at the Dursley▓s.

And so he disappeared into the blue swirling portal that closed behind him. 


	5. Letter Alley

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 5Letter Alley

It was a whole week before his eleventh birthday, when he woke up in the morning feeling extra sore. While it might not have seemed so, Harry was very athletic for his young age. The low ceiling of the cupboard had holes large enough for his hands so whenever he was locked away for long periods of time, he would workout his upper body, and Harry-hunting was what Harry had used for his lower body, but ever since that had stopped Harry just did curls and stretches to make sure that he was fit. His magical skills however had obviously hit some kind of a block, and other then the minute corrections and manipulations that he would make to the construction of his summoned skeletons and golems, he could do nothing new. Any of his bolt techniques did little better than a bullet in a brickwall, but it was enough for his defense, he supposed. The summons had an unlimited time on them, it seemed, but the fire wall technique only worked for a few seconds.

Either way he was tired, and being woken up extra early to cook for the Dursleys wasn▓t exactly the best way to start his morning. But cook their Bacon and Eggs he did, and he cooked a little extra and shoved it into his mouth when he was sure that the Dursley▓s weren▓t looking.

When Uncle Vernon began to grumble about the morning post, he got up without being asked and got the post as had become a kind of routine for him over the last couple years. But it was when Harry began to shuffle the mail around (if uncle vernon saw any bills in front of any news from aunt marge, there would have been hell to pay), that Harry noticed there was a letter in the bundle that was very foreign, and was addressed to him. He folded the letter and put it in his back pocket, he hoped that the letter might have some answers, and that he▓d be able to find out what it said later.

After breakfast, Harry made to escape to the safety of his cupboard, but was stopped when he was told that he would be going to Ms. Figg▓s for the day as the Dursley were going to London for the day to pickup some last minute school supplies for Dudley.

He was escorted to Ms. Figg by a very persistent Aunt Petunia, who wanted to make sure that Ms. Figg received the boy. After being escorted to the sitting room, and being fed a piece of chocolate cake that tasted older than Harry, he finally had a chance to ask a question.

⌠Ms. Figg, I received a letter today, and I▓d like a chance to read it in private if that▓s okay with you.■

⌠It▓s okay, Harry.■ She said, obviously a bit cheery at that last bit of news. ⌠You can have all the time you want.

⌠Thanks, Ms. Figg...■ He replied as he pulled out the folded letter and finally finished reading the outside.

Mr. H. Potter The Cupboard Under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive

⌠How do these people know where I sleep?■ Harry spoke out loud. He noted that the letter must have either been hand delivered or something, because there was no stamp on it.

Flipping the envelope over and noticing the strange symbol on the wax seal, Harry opened the envelope and pulled out its contents, two letters written on yellowing paper.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter

We would like to invite you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

And Harry at that very moment knew that his time with the Dursley▓s were no more.

During his remaining minutes alone, Harry began to look around the sitting room. It was then that he noticed something strange. The clock that he had always looked at to know the time until the Dursleys would come to take him away was opened slightly. While looking through the glass covering of it, it seemed to tell the normal time, but insid the casing was a diferrent story altogether, the face of the clock looked the same, but instead of numbers, there were names of places, School, Traveling, Peril, Home, and the list of things continued. To Harry that was very interesting, but what was more interesting was what was written on the clock▓s hands.

⌠Ms. Figg?■

⌠Yes, Dear?■

⌠Why▓s my name on one of the clock hands?■

Harry could here a light cursing as a cup could be heard shattered on the floor.

It was then that Harry heard himself swear, Ms. Figg knew that magic or something similar existed, if the Clock wasn▓t real what was the point of keeping it locked up, how come he never remember doing anything funny around Ms. Figg.

Harry didn▓t know what made him do it, but as soon as Ms. Figg walked in the room, he held up the letter and said, ⌠You know what I▓m supposed to do with this letter, don▓t you?■

After a long and trying conversation about the wizarding world, and his past, in which Harry never once mentioned seeing Godric▓s Hollow, Ms. Figg explained that she▓d be able to help him get the supplies that he needed, when the time came, and that she would also Owl Hogwarts stating his acceptance.

She also told him that she was a squib. He didn▓t tell her about his powers though. 


	6. The Journey from Privet Drive

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 6The Journey from Privet Drive

A few days later had come, and it was another normal day in the life of the Dursleys, except for one thing.

Harry Potter had a surprise for them.

When he went outside for his chores and his Aunt Petunia was cleaning the upstairs, he decided that he would create a golem out of dirt and send it inside the house, dispelling it and repeating until the piles of dirt in the house coated the floor, when the dirt coated the complete floor plan of the first floor, he went to his cupboard, grabbed his belongings and proceeded to summon a skeleton and dispelled the skeleton inside of the house so that it looked like he was only a skeleton. And throwing an old fish under the loose floorboard in the cupboard, it smelled like something died inside the cupboard. And something was dead: Harry▓s wishes to ever return.

Harry got out of the back door, and then went around to the front and down the street at a sprint, not stopping when heard the screams from the house far behind him, and turning only when he rang the doorbell to Ms. Figg▓s house.

After a small talk and meal with Ms. Figg, she finally asked if he was ready to go to Diagon Alley.

⌠I-i d-don▓t have any money, and I wanted to ask you something first...■

⌠Well your family is a very old and rich one, and they do have vaults at the Wizard bank for your family, I doubt that you could get into some of the older ones until you turn 17, but the newest one, your trust fund, was the one that you parents set up for your Hogwarts Tuition. That one should be accessible to you.■ Noticing Harry's questioning gaze, she paused momentarily before she spoke again. ⌠You can ask me whatever it is before we go if you truly feel that you must...■

⌠I wanted to know if I could stay here until school starts I don▓t want to go back to the Dursleys. That and I doubt that they think I▓m alive.■

⌠HUH-? Did you fake your death or someth-,■ she groaned for a second and sank back wards against the wall. ⌠You faked your death, oh jeeze, you faked your death...■

⌠Yeah...■ Harry began to fidget nervously as Mrs. Figg began to fan herself.

⌠You may stay here if you promise that we▓ll talk about this later, okay, we might not even talk about it until after you get back, but we will talk about it... sooner or later.■

⌠Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou...■ he said as he gave her a hug that would have suffocated her to death in less than a quarter minute.

Once Harry had his things placed on the Guest Bed at Mrs. Figg's, he made his way to the fireplace in the living room. 

A few scattered minutes later and the Duo were pushing their way through the crowds of Diagon Alley on the winding cobblestone street. Harry was looking around frantically, trying to adsorb everything in one go. He idily remembered the Greek Myth about Hera's cow, and envied the creature's many eyes.

It was almost like a dream, to be something and somewhere out of Dudley▓s games was a little too fun for him. But he was happy, here people wouldn't treat him like he was a freak if he talked about anything unusual or extraordinary. But as he looked around he noticed that no one was doing magic that was anything like him, maybe the magic that he could do was only for those who were specialized in certain magics or something.

The sun was shining brightly on a stack of cauldrons out side the nearest shop. There was a plump woman with red hair complaining about the prices on Dragon's Liver, and multiple owls could be seen flying around inside of Eeylops Owl Emporium. But what really caught his attention was the window display of the shop next to it.

But all the whirlwinds of thoughts of the magical happenings around him left Harry's mind when they stepped into Gringotts. A pair of Golbins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. Harry could see goblins doing transactions inside the bank around the entire hall. Harry's eye caught one goblin who was weighing a diamond the size of his fist against a skull with a blue gem embedded in it right above the eyes.

After a brief conversation with a goblin managing what seemed to be the main desk, Ms. Figg and Harry were led over to a set of rail tracks which took them down by rail cart deep underground, to where the vaults were. He immensely enjoyed the cart ride and couldn▓t help but think of a Donkey Kong Game that he saw Dudley playing on his Game System one day, there was a crazy cart ride in that too.

When they finally made it to the vault, Harry was astounded by the fortune in bronze, silver, and gold locked away under his control. Heaps, columns, mounds and piles of Lined the Floor of the Vault, making it impossible to see over the pillar of gold that graced the center of the vault. Harry idily wondered if there were other things than gold, silver, and bronze in the vault. After Ms. Figg helped him pile a large amount of galleons, sickles and knuts into his handbag, they began the winding ride over an underground ravine and back to the surface.

Instead of acting like a Child on a sugar rush, Harry began to mentally compile a short list of things he wanted to purchase if the alley contained them, in addition to his school supplies.

Harry's first stop on the list was to Madame Malkin▓s, in which Harry got the entire Hogwarts Uniform which consisted of: three plain black robes, one plain pointed hat, one pair of protected gloves, and one winter cloak.

After Harry got his school robes, they made there way over to Amanuensis Quills. Once inside Harry could be seen aking his way over to the section with Quills where Harry saw everything from Pigeon Quills for 6 knuts all the way to Hippogriff Quills at 2 Galleons. Pulling couple of Eagle Quills off the top shelf, Harry also pulled two Raven Quills off the bottommost shelf. Making his way over to the next Section, Harry pulled Black, Blue, Red, Green, and a multi-colored ink off the shelves. Harry, also got two scrolls of parchment and two notebooks.

The pair▓s next stop was at the local bookstore, Flourish and Blott's, where Harry picked up his school books.

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 By Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic By Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory By Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration By Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi By Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions By Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them By Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection By Quentin Tremble

After picking up school books, he, of course, had to get something that he would consider light reading.

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 By: Miranda Goshawk The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 By: Miranda Goshawk The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 By: Miranda Goshawk The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 By: Miranda Goshawk The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 By: Miranda Goshawk The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7 By: Miranda Goshawk An Intermediate Guide to Transfiguration By: Emeric Switch An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration By: Emeric Switch Healing Potions and Restoring Drafts By: Susan Snyder The Complete Guide to Potion Mastery By: Horace Slughorn The Complete Ingredient Compendium By: Severus Snape Defense against Darkness By: Shanith Shields Darkness: It's Own Defense By: Sherry Shields The Art of Mental Strength and Defense By: Hidalgo Black

After stopping for an Ice Cream at Florean Fortescue's the duo went to Mr. Mullpepper's Apothecary, where they picked up the ingredients needed for Harry▓s potions class, and also picked up sets of both, glass and crystal potion phials and even some crystal phials with preserving charms and unbreakable charms already placed on them, a set of scales, and a black steel mortar and pestle. It was here that Harry also splurged on himself, buying the ingredients that would be necessary for many of the healing and restorative potions. And after deciding that many of the other potion ingredients were interesting he began pulling a few rare ones, in hopes of being ready for anything.

The next stop was for a trunk to store his supplies and belongings which at the moment consisted of nothing but the packages that the duo were carrying.

At first, Ms. Figg insisted that they should simply pick up a normal one, but Harry begged for something that was a little more substantial.

At Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, they picked up Harry's cauldron and telescope. In the back of the store was a trunk display. Normal student trunks on the left, multiple compartment trunks on the right, and in the center sat multiple trunks with various enchantments or other enhanecments on it. Harry stared long and hard at the Display before settling on a charcoal colored trunk with a blood red and emerald green dragon design on the top. The trunk had 5 compartments, 200 increased storage in the first two, potion racks in the third with a gravity spell on the bottom of the compartments that made sure that none of the potions inside of the trunk could spill. In the fourth compartment, was a pullout desk that would set itself up when the trunk was stood up on its side, and in the fifth trunk compartment was a bookshelf that only displayed 10 books at a time but could hold up to 200 different books. And with a flick of the wand the shelves would rotate.

Mrs. Figg then took Harry into the Eeylops Owl Emporium and after a small debate she bought him a beautiful snowy white owl as a birthday present, seeing as it was his birthday the next day. Harry also got a simple but elegant cage, along with High-quality owl treats.

The pair then went to Ollivander▓s for Harry's wand, it was the last stop of the day.

They waited for a moment before an older man appeared in front of them on a rolling ladder. The older man grinned, he was an unusual man to say the least.

⌠I thought I would be seeing you soon, Mr Potter.■ He climbed down from the ladder and started to pull out wands from the shelf, handing them to Harry. Occasionally he would ask Harry to: "Go, ahead. Give it a wave!"

When Ollivander had hit was seemed to be the hundredth wand he started to make small talk.  
⌠It seems like only yesterday when your parents were in here buying their first wands. Your mother▓s was ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, willow. Nice for charm work. Your father, however, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches and very pliable. A little more of a wand for transfiguration it was. But, while your father favored it, it really chose him.■

And so, Ollivander continued with his monologue, only to stop when Harry asked him another question. You see in the game Diablo, only the Sorceror carried a Staff, and that was the only magically conductive item in the game, really. The rest of the characters cast spells wandlessly. Harry wanted to know if he was going to be considered a freak, or if his magical spells from before would just disappear. He didn't fully understand what the wand might do to him.

⌠Pardon me, Mr. Ollivander, but why do we need wands? Just what do they do that makes them so much more different than a staff, or someone that doesn▓t use anything to cast magic?■ Harry asked.

Ollivander studied Harry with pale silver eyes wondering why the young boy started sounding like an inquisitive mother.

⌠The wand▓s purpose is to focus a wizards magic, It takes many years of study and an exceptionally powerful magic core to cast spells without the focus.■ Ollivander said.

⌠Theoretically, if a wizard was able to stabilize his magic enough, and control his adolecent and accidental magic, he would have a little more flexibility with his magic, allowing him to develop a cushion of sorts. You see when you use accidental magic, you siphon off magic from your core, implanting traces of it in your body. making you magically stronger. The wand works as a bind for the core, and if a wizard were to start learning to use a wand, anything that did not make its way into his bodily structure would, in the simplest terms be lost. For when you use magic, everything is like a muscle the more you use that muscle a certain way, the harder it is to change the muscle to work differently."

"Back to the topic of the cushion of magic... When you use wandless techniques like the Animagus transformation or apparition, or even riding a broom... you use magic that has been placed into the cushion. And a magical focus is used to draw power from the bound magical core. But if you are worried about pulling from either reserve of magic, don't fret as you gain experience you will notice that your core and your cushion both grow rather quickly at their own pace, neither refelcting the others growth in the slightest. And when you reach you magical maturation, which speeds up the growth of the magical core, you will feel the power increase, at a very high level."

"Of course, you will find that the cushion is easier to hit boundaries in when you are using magic. Making you nothing better than a muggle in magical power when you exhaust that reserve. Wizards of old tried to use as much magical power in the cushion area as they could before they recieved their focus, so that it would grow allowing them to be more powerful. And they also learned many muggle fighting styles, allowing them to always be protected. Some wizards like Gryffindor for instance, placed their wands inside their weapons, making it the most practical and modern choice at the time."

⌠But on the matter of a staff to be used instead of a wand... That is usually not worried about often, since the size difference in relation to a wand makes a wand more practical, and the staff is normally to be favored when the user teaches himself older magics. Complex, time consuming, and very tedious work, it is to have a staff, and to use its power.■

⌠But the main reason that it is not thought upon to have a staff, is because, they larger an object, the more personal the focus must be, the staff must be made by hand, and normally takes more power than a wand. The materials for a staff, is easily equivalent to that of 50 wands, and the magical focuses imparted to the staff, are more expensive or near impossible to find than it would be to make a simple wand.

⌠All foci also serve to harness and channel the magic, so that one can begin working magic in a controlled core form of magic much sooner, and more easily. Without it, it would require a much greater effort to begin working core magic. It is also lost to the world the information on how to create a true staff, the wand is the closest anyone has ever come in a millennia.■

While Ollivander explained all of this, he began hitting the two hundred wand mark with Harry.

"The thing that most wizards forget, is that while a wand draws from the core, a staff can draw from both the core and its cushion, making the rarity of the staff pointless... Everyone should have one if they have the choice of recieving one. Sadly, I cannot make staves only wands."

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance; unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings. Some use other sources for their cores, but I find that most of them are too tempermental for my tastes, and a bad core could lead to wand deterioration. Thats the other thing, the larger an object, the harder it is to find a wizard that is compatible with it, and a wizard with a foreign staff could easily be defeated by a wizard that has a perfectly matched wand. Each wand and staff is unique, and you will never get quite as good results from another▓s wand or staff.■ Ollivander said.

Harry had to admit, a wand sounded like it 'was' a necesary tool for the young wizard or witch. But somewhere inside of him knew that a wand would not help him in the ways a staff would.

⌠Maybe since I haven▓t used a wand to work magic means that I can't use one, ever. Maybe I can▓t uses a staff either...■ Harry thought to himself, getting pretty depressed, however, every wand that was tested and failed, only made Ollivander happier and happier. Even when Harry hit his 300th tried wand.

⌠A tricky customer.■ Ollivander exclaimed.

This struck Harry as strange, and it made him pretty pissed too. This should have been, at least, slightly infuriating to the old man as well.

Finally, Ollivander stopped at a wand that he had passed up many times before and his face held a strange expression in his features.

⌠I wonder.■ Ollivander went into the back of his shop, and brought out a new wand.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Nice and supple."

As soon as Harry saw the holly wand, he knew it was the right one. He took it in his hand, and sparks in a rainbow of colors fountained from the tip. Harry felt a surge of energy flow from him into the wand, and it seemed to warm in his hand. Inside himself, Harry felt different. He felt the Core and the Cushion that Ollivander talked about, as well as the connection that the core forged with his wand.

"Very good, Mr Potter. Well, well, well... how curious." Ollivander said, smiling.

"What's curious, Mr Ollivander?" Harry asked.

Ollivander stared at Harry again.

"I remember everything about every wand I have ever sold, Mr. Potter. And as it just so happens, that the phoenix who gave the feather that rests in that wand, gave one other feather. One other, and only the one. It is very curious that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother gave you that scar.■

Harry▓s eyes bulged as Ms. Figg▓s lips went white.

⌠Is that a bad thing?■ Harry asked, nervously, and then slapped himself mentally realizing that his question was very stupid.

⌠Usually, a wand core it means nothing more than a magical strength in a certain field. After all, each animal, each core, each wood, and each wizards is unique. However, the fact that the core is identical to his, that is, coming from the same powerful animal, likely means that the two of you share certain qualities or characteristics, or even a joined destiny. I also sense that your potential power one day could easily match or surpass even his, Your magical core still has the potential of growth...■ Ollivander explained. ⌠It is what you do with your power that makes a wizard tick, you are not the evil Dark Lord, Mr. Potter, I hope that you can realize that. You have a similar potential that could easily, stop short of, match, or exceed his. I will say one thing though Mr. Potter, we will definitely see great things in your time among wizards, you will be great should the wind blow true."

"After all, He-who-must-not-be-named did great things... terrible things... yes... but great.■ 


	7. The Sorting Spat

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 7The Sorting Spat

After realizing that the wand business had taken most of the pair's shopping time, Harry vowed to return to see if they had any blacksmiths, or if they had any potions books for physical or magical enhancements, those that were permanent, of course.

And soon after listening to a Quidditch game on the Wizarding Wireless with Ms. Figg, when they got back to her home, Harry realized that while he did notice the broom in the window at Quality Quidditch Supplies, that he did not realize its real significance, and yearned to know what it meant to fly.

When Harry was trying to choose which books to read first, he decided on the Potions texts, because those were the only ones that did not require a wand to be used.

As the next few weeks passed, Harry had taken great bounds forwards in the subject of Potions, he managed to read and re-read both Snape's Complete Ingredient Compendium and Slughorn's Complete Guide to Potion Mastery.

It had taken him time before he could memorize the singnificance each ingredient could make on another. With the help of these two books he filled both 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, by Phyllida Spore' and 'Magical Drafts and Potions, by Arsenius Jigger' and the healing potions book with little notes in the margins that would help him in the future. and after realizing that there were similarities between the subtle patterns of brewing between Slughorn▓s book and Snape▓s book. And after going through the required reading for potions, realized that many of the simple brews of the first year▓s book, had shown themselves in later books, and others still that could be altered slightly, for a more potent effect which would cause devastating effects if the potion is not done with the alterations evening themselves out. He knew what changes the reside of te last potion brewed could do to a cauldron, he knew which potions could not be brewed in sucession on the same sauldron, he knew how different potions and cauldron called for different stirring techniques, he knew how the flame length, heat, type, and distance from the cauldron could affect a potion... Needless to say he knew almost all the causes and effects that most potion masters would.

And finally when there was only a week left, Harry decided to test out his new prowess with the Healing Potions book. Needless to say, it was very interesting, but Harry decided on the most useful, sure it was complex, but it was pretty useful. Being almost as powerful as the Mild Healing Potion from the Diablo game (in that it couldn't mend bones), Harry decided that it would be the most useful use of a few hours, in brewing this potion. Preparing his cauldron, he began to line up his ingredients in the order that he would need them, and started the potion.

Two hours and 38 minutes later, just a minute short of when the potion would be completed, Harry was using his mortar and pestle to help him grind up the last ingredient. Seconds later, he was pouring in the mixture of powdered bicorn horn and powdered unicorn horn into the potion. Now all he had to do was wait the 45 seconds until the potions should be completed.

Mrs. Figg walked in on the 11-year-old hunched over the cauldron wondering what was going on. Looking into the cauldron and seeing the tar looking concoction, she grew scared.

"Harry James Potter, what in the name of Merlin are you doing?"

"Shhh!" is the only response that she recieved, followed by a whispered countdown as Harry stared at his watch.

"15... 14... 13... 12... 11... 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 0!"

At the exact moment that Harry said "0!" the potion began to bubble violently, but the strange thing to Mrs. Figg was that the bubbles, which were green, stayed in the cauldron. After exactly ten seconds of green bubbles, the contents of the potion could be seen. Mrs. Figg could only stare as she noticed the potion that she previously thought was closely related to boiling tar, had changed into what looked to be blood.

Harry, in the mean time, had wrestled himself out of her grip and had begun to read from the potion book once more.

"Looks like blood... check! Odorless..." Here Harry made a show of sniffing the fumes of the cauldron. "Check! Tastes like Peppermint..."

Harry dipped his finger into the concoction and licked it, "Mmm... Check! It's finished! I can't believe that I actually got it!"

Arabella Figg just sat there completely confused, wondering what she agreed herself into, taking in the green-eyed boy in front of her.

Over the last 6 days of summer break, after reading 'Magical Theory, by Aldabert Wafling', Harry skimmed through 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One", effectively learning the theory and wand movements of: Flipendo, Lumos, Incendio, Lacartum Inflamare, Lumos Solem, Alohamora, Colloportus, Wigardium Leviosa, Petrificus Totalus, Locomotor Mortis, Finite Incantartum and the Point-Me Spell, and skipping ahead into 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two", he learned the theory of Expelliarmus.

He also read both 'A History of Magic, By Bathilda Bagshot' and 'Magical Theory, By Adalbert Waffling'. He might not have been able to practice any spells, but with all the different spells that would come in front of him over the next seven years, being able to understand theory for them would be really useful. That and knowing the history of the world that he was entering, most likely permanently, what so much more than better for him.

In Bathilda Bagshot's book, Harry read about the beginning of recorded magic, which began around Merlin's time, he read about usage of the older foci, like staves and other core-infused weapons. He read about the Goblin wars, the witch hunts, the construction of Hogwarts, and many other things up until Grindewalds fall in 1945. The strangest thing was that even if the section on the Goblin Wars was a little biased, since it was the winners who wrote history, he was very suprised on how there was only 200 pages in the 1578 pages of the entire book that was not on the Goblin Wars at all. Looking back at the author's name, Harry idily wondered if it was a Goblin who wrote it, the name was just as scetchy as the lot of Goblin names inside the book.

It seemed that the only good that came of reading it was that he finally found a name for the beautiful snowy owl that Mrs. Figg had gotten him... Hedwig.

Soon after this, the 1st of September came around, and it was time for Harry to leave for Hogwarts. After giving Ms. Figg a hug and getting on the scarlet engine on Platform nine and three quarters, he began to search out a compartment for him to sit in.

While looking for a compartment, he befriended a boy named Neville Longbottom, who had lost his toad, and Hermione Granger, a muggleborn girl who had offered to help him look for the toad. Soon after that he continued his search towards the back of the train.

In the last compartment, Harry met a red-haired boy named Ron who was sitting alone, Harry quickly befriended the lonesome boy, and when the train▓s horn sounded signaling the end of the line coming up soon, Harry and Ron began to change into their school robes.

After an uneventful boat trip across the lake, that led to Harry to befriend the jolly and tall groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, who Harry thought looked like a black haired, halloween version of Old St. Nick, the group of first years began to gather in the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony.

As the first years began to trickle into the safety of the Great Hall, older eyes began to follow their movements and the youngest eyes began to take in the marvel of the Great Hall. They then stopped before the elevated steps, that was where Professor McGonagall, an older looking lady than even Mrs. Figg, placed a four legged stool and a frayed wizard's hat.

The entire hall gave their attention to hat, waiting for something to happen. After a few moments the hat twitched. The hat seemed to tear at the seams as it began to sing:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't count on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat then me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hat sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and Loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

The hat ended the song, tilting slightly in a bow to each table before it became still again, and the applause began to die out.

⌠When I call your name, step forward put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted.■

⌠Abbott, Hannah.■

⌠HUFFLEPUFF!■

⌠Bones, Susan.■

⌠HUFFLEPUFF!■

⌠Boot, Terry.■

⌠RAVENCLAW!■

⌠Brocklehurst, Mandy■

⌠RAVENCLAW!■

⌠Brown, Lavender.■

⌠GRYFFINDOR!■

⌠Bulstrode, Millicent.■

⌠SLYTHERIN.■

⌠Finch-Fletchley, Justin.■

⌠HUFFLEPUFF!■

⌠Granger, Hermione.■

⌠GRYFFINDOR!■

⌠Longbottom, Neville.■

⌠GRYFFINDOR!■

⌠MacDougal, Morag.■

⌠RAVENCLAW!■

⌠Malfoy, Draco.■

⌠SLYTHERIN!■

⌠Moon, Seline.■

⌠RAVENCLAW!■

⌠Nott, Theodore.■

⌠SLYTHERIN!■

⌠Parkinson, Pansy.■

⌠SLYTHERIN!■

⌠Patil, Padma.■

⌠RAVENCLAW!■

⌠Patil, Parvati.■

⌠GRYFFINDOR!■

⌠Perks, Sally-Anne.■

⌠HUFFLEPUFF!■

Finally it was his turn.

⌠Potter, Harry.■

⌠Potter, did she say?■

⌠The Harry Potter?■

Sitting on the stool with as much courage as he could muster, the hat fell over his head and cut off everyone else▓s face.

He sat there for a moment, confused and hoping that a sign didn▓t pop-up over his head saying that he didn▓t have a house, or something that was equally not normal.

⌠Hmm,■ said a small voice appeared in his ear. ⌠Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. You thirst... for nothing... what what is this... you have no real self ambition greater than Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I see so much potential... so much... and what is this?... you must look up your lineage... you'd be surprised at what might be there... you believe that you have so little, that you have hit your limits and can do very little in improving, the power you have now is nothing compared to what you can become, interesting... So where to put you?■

⌠What are the houses like, who▓s been in them, can you tell me where I would fit best?■ Harry thought to the hat.

⌠You would be welcomed much in Ravenclaw. Plenty of people with a thirst for knowledge, great potential like yours. But you could be so much greater. Your mother would have done well in Ravenclaw, had she not met your father on the train prior, that boy was dead set on Gryffindor, she longed to be with im subconsciously, I think, no the best representative of Ravenclaw would be the muggleborn Albert Einstein, he had the potential to be a genius. And he achieved it, of course, he had to lose some of his people skills I hear...

⌠But, Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt in that. Oh, yes, Slytherin will give you friends, give you power. It will let you grow as much as you are capable of. It is perfect for the ambitious, those that care only to succeed, but you, you would rather help those in need, I can see it inside of you. Lord Voldemort is the greatest known wizard in Slytherin, he had, like you, achieved powers before he arrived. But yes the ambitious do turn dark don▓t they...

⌠Hufflepuff, now wouldn▓t the world be surprised, you would receive much help if you were to be placed here, but they are considered average and you are far from it. None have become more than average for when placed there, they lose their inner self-esteem.

⌠Gryffindor, the perfect place for you, almost, they will love you, cherish you exalt you, one day, they will believe that you are the hero, but only after they scorn you, you will become the role model. A few people have fallen short of these expectaions, but mostly they become far greater in spirit. Your parents were here and I can tell that you don▓t want to be seen as their seed but believe that you▓d only be accepted if you were in Gryffindor...

⌠But where to put you?■

⌠They all seem to be pretty good fits though...■ Harry thought.

⌠In Gryffindor and Ravenclaw you would receive true friends, and the diamonds in Slytherin are rare to be seen, and even harder to gain the comradery of.

⌠So Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw remains in your choice...■

"If I enjoyed strife and struggle, it would seem that Slytherin might be a decent path..." He mused. ⌠I will be hated and loved regardless of my choice, and one day I will have to fight demons regardless, I may not have a deep ambition, but I have them, I might not have too great a knowledge but I have it, I might not become the best helping hand, but I will become one, that is my oath to myself and the world, for my courage leads me.■

"I'm glad that you have chosen wisely, but remember your blood lies where most could only dream, I cannot say exactly what blood it is... but child, you have far to go before I can deem you worthy."

The hat chuckled in his ear. "So it shall be- GRYFFINDOR!" 


	8. The Potions Master

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 8The Potions Masters

The whole of the school of Hogwarts took an extra few days to get back to normal after the sorting ceremony. It took more than fifteen minutes for the sorting of a certain Harry Potter, while students like Draco Malfoy, hardly had to be near it before the hat spouted, ⌠SLYTHERIN!"

But when Harry was away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the school, he was navigating the endless maze that was Hogwarts. And while Hermione, who never got lost, and Neville, who always got lost, were his first friends at Hogwarts, he tended to get lost in the hallways with Ron a whole lot more.

But once Harry made it to class, this was where he found a newer love for magic. The spells done on a wand, while requiring less concentration than his spells, were must harder, pronunciation and wand-movement meant a whole lot more then it should have. With the amount of magical power that he could put behind a spell from the geyser that became his core, he was always getting results. The problem was that the result wasn't always desired...

In Astronomy, all he had to do was point the telescope in the write direction, and memorize the names of the stars. The movements of the planets were far easier, seeing as there were only nine major ones, and the few ever elusive ones that muggles never knew about. They wouldn't start learning the names of the planets in the other star systems until Second Year at the earliest, so most of the muggleborns, or ones that were raised as muggles like Harry had a simple enough job of it.

Herbology was another blow off class to Harry, there just wasn▓t any point to it. Sure you get ingredients for potions, both basic and complex, but let someone else do the work. This was one course that Harry knew that he was going to drop the moment that he was allowed to.

The Hardest class was History of Magic, not that there were anything hard in the actual material of the class, considering that Harry already read the entire book, but the fact that you had to make sure that you didn▓t fall asleep before Professor Binns didn▓t exactly help matters. Add in the fact that he was a ghost that you couldn▓t wake up by shaking him the obvious way, made things really hard.

Charms and Transfiguration, on the other hand were two of Harry▓s easy classes, regardless of his power output problems. After a childhood of teaching himself spells from a muggle game, learning from a book and teacher was easy. Add in the fact that he read the required book for charms already, and forget the fact that he forgot about the transfiguration class' required reading by Emeric Switch, and you have a Harry who can do the first half of 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One' with his hands tied behind his back...

It would be a month before Harry got the transfiguration spells, wand movements, incantations, and power output right before he could bring his skill in transfiguration up to par with his charmswork.

Harry soon found out when testing his Diablo spells when no one was looking, that the spells were far more powerful than before requiring less power of his magical cushion.

Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed to be a joke, while Harry enjoyed reading the book for the class, even if it had no spells, the teacher could easily faint at the sight of his own shadow. And the creatures that they read about in the class hardly seemed dark, especially with names like, hinkypunk and pixie...

And finally the class that Harry looked fowards to the most but grew to hate more than the rest, all at the same time, Potions.

The dungeons of the Potions Master didn▓t seem to hold the same decor as the dungeons in Diablo. Notice the bloodless walls? But they were as cold as Harry expected them to be. And while the effect of bloodstained walls was not there the creepiness was not lost completely, surrounding them, in shelves that lines the walls of the classroom, were ingredients of every kind. But the only ones not invisible to the human eyes from the tables that the students sat at were little creatures, organs, and blood each magnified by the bends of the glass jars.

Professor Snape was the Potions Master at Hogwarts, and while calling role, Harry began to realize that the Severus Snape that wrote the compendium by which Harry studied Potions, was teaching this very class. When Professor Snape stopped at Harry▓s name, he sneared and spoke, ⌠Mr. Potter, our new celebrity.■

Harry shrugged off the sarcasm that dripped from the comment prior, having experienced far worse amounts of sarcasm from his muggle relatives. ⌠I don▓t know about that, Sir. But I do know that I read your book, and I enjoyed it immensely.■

⌠Oh, really.■ Snape began, clearly surprised. ⌠Well class, why don▓t we see if the famous Harry Potter, is not trying to garnish some extra sympathy for Gryffindor by becoming the class pet.■ The Slytherins all sneered at this remark.

⌠Potter, tell me why would I crush a sopophorous bean.■ At this Harry could see out of the corner of his eye a certain bushy haired Gryffindor looking confusedly around inside of her potions book.

⌠The juices of a sopophorous bean are used when influencing the power of an advanced poison, the difference in the amount of concentrated juice can decide the difference between an immediate desired effect of the poison, or the weak, undesired effect. For example, in the Draught of the Living Dead, The amount of potent juice of the bean can make the difference between the potent irriversable effect that all masters wish to achieve, or the reversable effect that can only cause a comma in magically-bestowed subjects.■

At this the professor▓s eyes narrowed, ⌠Potter, exactly how many magical beasts▓ blood have unpleasant side effects when mixing with humans blood in potions?■

⌠It depends, Sir. So long as the potion is not in contact with a human▓s body, any mixture is completely harmless, and then there about 3 types of blood that can be mixed with human▓s blood in a potion, and be in contact with a human▓s body, so long as the blood used in the potion matches the user. However there is only one type of blood that is said to have no bad side effects, and that is phoenix▓s blood, of course that is just speculation and rumor as it is said that phoenixes do not bleed, or allow there blood to be used in potions or touched by humans. It isn't the type of species that worries most potion masters, but the sicknesses that the species might have.■

"There is an ancient healing draught that is used to heal everything except bones, why is it rarely used, what is the last ingredient placed in the potion, why is the last ingredient placed, and what are the different colors for the different stages of the potion?" Snape's eyes were filled with glee about the potion that only few had read about, a potion that was not in his book either...

"The Healing Potion of the Horadric Era is the only known potion that has immediate or instantaneous results and is also of rare usage. there are multiple stages of said potion, the most simple brew is the only one that cannot heal broken bones... It's rare usage is devoted to its extremely rare or expensive ingredients, the most common ingredient is the mixture of unicorn and bicorn horn powder which is also the only ingredient that keeps the powerful substance from becoming a poison. The powdered mixture is placed lastly to dissolve all and any deadly remnants of the potion. The color of all stages are as follows... Clear, White, Light Gray, Gray, Dark Gray, Black, Green, And Blood Red. Green is Simply the color of the bubbles that signify the poison turning into a potion.

⌠Very good, it nice to see that there is a Gryffindor with brains for once, but that is only the theory that is potions, to actually brew it is a different matter entirely.■ he glared at Harry for a moment, before turning his gaze at the rest of the first years.

⌠All of you will be required to brew the potion whose page number is posted on the board, and Mr. Potter?■

⌠Yes, Professor. You will be required to make the same potion as the rest of the class, along with assembling the Healing Potion of the Horadrim. I expect you both potions on my desk by the end of class, and if they are not on my desk at the end of class, You will recieve detention for a month, as well as 200 points from Gryffindor, do I make my self clear?■

Harry gulped. ⌠C-Crystal, Sir.■

"Good, Heed my warning, or your precious house will lose sight of the cup before they even have the chance to get out of negative points!" Snape sneered happily, as he saw the coward's father stutter the same as his son in his mind's eye, glad that he wouldn't have to worry one bit about McGonagall getting the Cup, for yet another year... "And Potter?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"No stuttering in my classroom, 10 Points from Gryffindor, You brats are supposed to be brave. Its bad enough that you're disgracing the name of both Celebrity and Gryffindor! I won't tolerate your arrogance thinking that you can weasel out of work by acting weak!"

An hour later found Professor Snape telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, completely ignoring the way in which Harry's Boil Cure potion sat in its phial, already completed or the way that Harry's Horadric Healing potion sat in the last of the disolving green bubbles, when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their entire potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron had collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?!"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus.

⌠There▓s no need for that, Sir.■ Harry spoke from behind him, ⌠My boil potion is done, Sir. And so is the Horadric Healing Potion..." Harry said ladling the potion away into his extra crystal phials "The Horadric Healing Potion has a better chance of success...■

⌠Well, then give it here.■ He spoke hurriedly, as Harry handed a phial to Neville, who promptly began to return to normal after swallowing the phial in one gulp. Then Snape rounded on Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You-Weasley-why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's five points you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry kicked him behind their cauldron after Snape had left to his office. 

"Don▓t push it," he muttered, "You're lucky he didn▓t deduct more."

Once break started, Harry and Ron left the castle and made their way across the grounds. They wanted to explore the ground in their free time. They soon met a giant man named Hagrid who invited them into his hut for a cup of tea. When Hagrid made to open the wooden door, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears.

Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate, began to speak.

⌠Another Weasley, eh? said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles and red hair. I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest.■ Looking at Harry for a moment he continued, ⌠the other half was spent chasing your dad and his friends inside of it.■

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch 'that old git.'

Ron began to scowl as Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Harry, told Ron not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students, and that the greasy haired head of house loved Slytherins with a knack for potions first and foremost.

⌠How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot, real great with animals, he was."

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you, said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date. What was so important about the clipping that Hagrid had a clipping on it. As Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse. 


	9. The Official Duel

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 9The Official Duel

The first-year Gryffindors had thought that they had been lucky enough to have Potions with the Slytherins, until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan.

Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday≈and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning how to fly together, but Harry tried his best to be optimistic about the situation. He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, especially when he realized that most of the magic that Harry thought was interesting, wouldn▓t be taught until at least OWL level.

At breakfast on Thursday, Hermione bored them all with flying tips she▓d gotten out of a book called 'Quidditch Through the Ages', but everybody was very pleased when Hermione▓s lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry hadn▓t had a single letter yet at Hogwarts, not even from Ms. Figg, and that was something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy▓s eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball about two inches in diameter, with a gold band circling the circumference, which seemed to fill full of white smoke.

⌠It▓s a Remembrall!■ he explained. ⌠Gran knows I forget things≈this tells you if there▓s something you▓ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red≈oh┘■ His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, ⌠┘you▓ve forgotten something┘

"Only I can▓t remember what I▓ve forgotten.■

Poor Neville...

It was 3:30 that afternoon when the Flying lessons were supposed to start, and their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived.

⌠Welcome to your first flying lesson." She barked, leaning against a worn broomstick.

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old, gnarled, and some of the twigs stuck out at very odd angles. He noticed that Malfoy was trying to bend another twig from its position on his broom that made it look as if it would be jammed up his arse if he slid back too far.

⌠Stick out your right hand over your broom,■ called Madam Hooch at the front, ⌠and say ▒Up!▓"

⌠UP ■ everyone shouted.

Harry▓s broom jumped into his hand at once, and Harry could feel the magic in the broom somehow. Hermione gave him a questioning look almost at once, wondering how he managed to summon it to his hand almost instantly.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

⌠Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,■ said Madam Hooch, giving a stern look. ⌠Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle≈three≈two≈ ■

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard just before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch▓s lips.

⌠Come back down, boy!■ she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle≈twelve feet≈twenty feet. Harry could see his scared face pale as he looked down at the ground, flailing away. They saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and ≈WHAM!≈ a thud and a nasty crack later and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap.

His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Harry almost swore he saw it hit a tree and fall into the forest below.

As Harry was thinking this, Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. ⌠Tutt, tutt... Broken wrist,■ Harry heard her mutter. ⌠Come on, boy≈it▓s all right, up you get.■ She turned to the rest of the class, as she used his other hand to pull him up.

⌠None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing. If I find one broom up in the air when I get back, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before you can say ▒Quidditch!▓■

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. ⌠Did you see his face, the great lump?■

The other Slytherins joined in.

⌠Shut up, Malfoy,■ snapped Harry.

⌠What of it? Look-■ said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. ⌠It▓s that stupid thing Longbottom▓s gran sent him.■

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

⌠Give it here, Malfoy,■ said Harry with authority. If they weren't talking before they just looked beacause, everyone stopped talking to watch the confrontation.

Malfoy smiled nastily. ⌠I think I▓ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find... how about on the roof?■ Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn▓t been lying, he could fly well.

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, sneering, ⌠Scared, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?■

Harry grabbed his broom.

He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him- and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he▓d found something he could do that came so easily, this was wonderful. As he pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

⌠Give it here, Malfoy.■ Harry called, ⌠or I▓ll knock you off your broom!■

⌠Oh, yeah?■ said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried, making him look like he was slightly constipated.

By instinct, Harry knew what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

⌠Have it your way then,■ Malfoy shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry could have sworn that the next few seconds of time passed in the same as a few minutes. The glass ball rose up in the air and then began to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle straight down, and the next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball, the wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching. He stretched out his hand. A foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and feel the light tension of the grass hit the longer twigs on his broom. And he shot back up out of the dive, and lowered himself back to the ground after a quick loop with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. If someone was riding the broom behind him, they would have believed that they were on a really cool rollercoaster ride.

⌠HARRY POTTER!■

His heart sank faster than he▓d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them like she just de-aged like fifty years. He got to his feet, trembling.

⌠Never...in all my time at Hogwarts!...■ Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, her glasses flashed furiously, and her hat that matched robes almost fell off, ⌠...how dare you... might have broken your neck! Potter, follow me now!■

⌠It wasn▓t his fault, Professor-■

⌠I'll have no complaining , Miss Patil.■

⌠But Malfoy-■

⌠I sad quiet, Miss Granger. Potter, follow me now.■

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle▓s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall▓s wake as she strode toward the castle. He didn't see the three faces of worry behind him.

He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he▓d done it. He hadn▓t even lasted two weeks.

He▓d be packing his bag in ten minutes. What would Ms. Figg say when he turned up on the doorstep? Would she send him back to the Dursley's, thinking he was a screw up?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn▓t say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. She was probably taking him to Dumbledore.

He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid▓s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumbled around the grounds carrying Hagrid▓s bag, using his magic to create more help for Hagrid.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside the Defense classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

⌠Excuse me, Professor Quirrell, could I borrow Wood for a moment?■

For a moment, Harry thought that Wood was a piece of wood that he▓d be beaten as if he was back in the cupboard under the stairs. But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick▓s class looking confused.

⌠Follow me, you two,■ said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

⌠In here.■

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude and vulgar words on the blackboard.

⌠Out, Peeves ■ she barked.

Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

⌠Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood≈ I▓ve found you a Seeker.■

Dinnertime was a very strange affair.

⌠You▓re joking.■

Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he▓d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he▓d forgotten all about it.

⌠Seeker?■ he said. ⌠But first years never make the house teams... You must be the youngest house player in about-■

⌠≈a century,■ said Harry, shoveling the tastiest morsel of shepherd's pie into his mouth. ⌠According to McGonagall.■

He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. Ron was so amazed, so impressed, that he just sat and gaped at Harry.

⌠I start training next week,■ said Harry. ⌠Only don▓t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.■

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

⌠Well done,■ said George in a low voice. ⌠Wood told us. We▓re on the team too, Beaters.■

⌠I tell you, we▓re going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,■ said Fred. ⌠We haven▓t won since Charlie left a couple years back, but this year▓s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was skipping when he told us, rather odd to see him whistling as well.■

⌠Anyway, we▓ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he▓s found a new secret passageway out of the school.■

⌠Bet it▓s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.■

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

⌠Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?■

⌠You▓re a lot braver now that you▓re back on the ground and you▓ve got your little friends with you,■ said Harry coolly.

There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

⌠I▓d take you on anytime on my own,■ said Malfoy.

⌠Tonight, if you want. Wizard▓s duel. Wands only≈no physical contact. What▓s the matter? Never heard of a wizard▓s duel before, I suppose?■

⌠Of course he has,■ said Ron, wheeling around. ⌠I▓m his second, who▓s yours?■

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

⌠Crabbe,■ he said. ⌠Is midnight all right? We▓ll meet you in the trophy room; that▓s always unlocked.■

⌠Wait, Malfoy.■ Harry continued when Malfoy turned. ⌠How come we can▓t make the duel official, we could probably get Dumbledore to let us use the Great Hall. I▓m pretty certain that in proper dueling, the challenger allows the challenged to choose the place where the two would, what is the best way to say this, battle.■

⌠Excuse me.■

They both looked up. It was Albus Dumbledore.

⌠Mr. Potter, I couldn▓t help overhearing what you and Mr. Malfoy were saying, and you are correct in assuming that a proper duel would be much more exciting. Assuming that you have already accepted, you will be permitted to use the Great Hall as the arena, I will erect the platform when dinner is finished with.■

Dinner passed by quickly for Harry and Malfoy, and while Harry was concentrating on his magic core and hoping that some of his techniques would work properly in the school, Malfoy was beginning to gloat at the Slytherin table, some of the older kids saw how he began to sweat however.

There was a very good chance that Harry was going to get found out in the advanced magic secrets that he had been keeping, but Harry felt that he should introduce the possibilities of magic to the school. Of course, keeping most of his abilities secret would be a good thing for the near future, and as such Harry was planning on making sure that his magic used his wand, and he was going to make use of every spell that he read about in the books that he owned, before even trying to introduce the spells that he learned without a wand.

The only problem was that he had only read up about three spells in the books so far, Flipendo, Reducto, and Expelliarmus, and unless he planned on levitating Malfoy, or transfiguring him into a match, those three spells would have to suffice.

⌠Dinner▓s over,■ Ron muttered at last, ⌠we▓d better go.■

They stood up and walked stiffly across the Great Hall, and stood in front of Dumbledore who nodded and began to make the announcement.

⌠Students tonight we have a special treat, while extremely unorthodox, there has been a duel challenge placed between first years, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. I must ask for every one to please stay stand near the back of the Hall, as I begin the preparations for the duel.■

A few floating embers were snuffed out as the tables slid together forming a platform, once the students were completely clear.

Harry climbed on top of the platform, and Malfoy did the same. Dumbledore began to recite the rules for the duel, before booming, ⌠BEGIN.■

Harry quickly fired off a weak Flipendo at Malfoy▓s face, watching Malfoy▓s face knock-back as if it were hit by a rather hard punch, Harry quickly fired off the Expelliarmus spell at Malfoy. Malfoy was flung backward and off of the platform as his broken nose was filled with blood.

⌠Winner, Harry Potter.■

They were heading towards Gryffindor Tower, when Hermione Granger, who was following them, began to but into their conversation.

⌠Do you mind? The guy just won a duel.■ said Ron furiously.

⌠I only wanted him to know that his father won second place in a dueling tournament when he was at the school.■

Harry couldn▓t believe that someone could be so obsessive over factoids, even if she was his friend.

⌠Come on,■ he said to Ron. He pushed past a group of Seventh Years and climbed up the nearest flight of stairs. But, Hermione wasn▓t going to give up that easily.

⌠Don▓t you care about your past? Didn▓t you know that your father was a quidditch player too? I hope you do well, I don▓t want Slytherin to win the House Cup.■

⌠Go away,■ Ron stated. "Just-" Ron stopped when he realized where they were.

⌠The third floor corridor.■

⌠You realize that it▓s forbidden, don▓t you? We shouldn▓t be here..."

"Thanks for the obvious, Hermione.■ Ron stated trailing behind Harry.

⌠Well, I▓m not the one that led us here.■ Hermione argued.

Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn▓t going to tell her that.

⌠Let▓s go.■

It wasn▓t going to be that simple. They hadn▓t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of an abandoned classroom in front of them. It was Peeves.

He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

⌠Shut up, Peeves≈please≈you▓ll get us thrown out.■

Peeves cackled. ⌠Wandering around in the Forbidden Corridor, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you▓ll get caughty.■

⌠Not if you don▓t give us away, Peeves, please.■

⌠Should tell Filch, I should,■ said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. ⌠It▓s for your own good, you know.■

⌠Get out of the way,■ snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves≈this was a big mistake.

Peeves bellowed, ⌠STUDENTS IN THE FORBIDDEN CORRIDOR!■

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door≈it was locked.

⌠This is it!■ Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, ⌠We▓re done for, This is the end...■

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeve▓s shouts. ⌠Oh, move over,■ Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry▓s wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, ⌠Alohomora.■

The lock clicked and the door swung open≈they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

⌠Why way did they go, Peeves?■

Filch was saying. ⌠Quick, tell me.■

⌠Say ▒please.▓■

⌠Don▓t mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?■

⌠Shan▓t say nothing if you don▓t say please,■ said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

⌠All right≈please.■

⌠NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn▓t say nothing if you didn▓t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!■ And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

⌠He thinks this door is locked,■ Harry whispered.

⌠I think we▓ll be okay≈get off, Ron ■ For Ron had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry▓s school robes for the last minute.

⌠What?■

Harry turned around≈and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment he was sure he▓d walked into a nightmare≈this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They were in a room, as he had supposed, but they were also face to face with the reason that the in a corridor was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor.

And it had three heads, one for each of them.

Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren▓t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob≈between Filch and death, he▓d take Filch. They fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn▓t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared, all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster.

They didn▓t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

⌠Where on earth have you all been?■ she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.

⌠Never mind that≈pig snout, pig snout,■ panted Harry. And the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling into armchairs. It was a while before any of them said anything. Ron, indeed, looked as if he▓d never speak again.

⌠What do they think they▓re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?■ said Ron finally. ⌠If any dog needs exercise, that one does.■

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.

⌠You don▓t use your eyes, any of you, do you?■ she snapped. ⌠Didn▓t you see what it was standing on?■

⌠The floor?■ Harry suggested.

⌠I wasn▓t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.■

⌠No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It▓s obviously guarding something.■

She stood up, glaring at them. ⌠I hope you▓re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed≈or worse, expelled. Now, if you don▓t mind, I▓m going to bed.■

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

⌠No, we don▓t mind,■ he said. ⌠You▓d think we dragged her along, wouldn▓t you? She▓s bloody mental that one, how can expulsion be worse then death, I▓m in need of a bloody vacation anyway.■

But Hermione had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something┘ 


	10. All Hallow's Eve

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 10 All Hallow's Eve

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall the next morning, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls.

Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor.

They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

''DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor M. McGonagall''

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one, and now you own one!"

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy grabbed the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with jealousy written all over his bratty forehead in nonexistent pimples.

"You act like he didn't know that, Malfoy." Ron piped up.

"You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." Malfoy sniggered.

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not just any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand."

"What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty, right?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets may look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus. They got outstripped ages ago."

"What would you know about it, Weasley? You couldn't even afford any of the twigs!" Malfoy snapped back.

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir, and it's really all thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it." said Harry stifling his laughter at the look of horror on Malfoy's face.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. Harry mused that the golden hoops at the end of the poles on either end of the field looked identical to the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling, he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his slightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down."

Oliver Wood had arrived.

He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant...you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls, but five balls total.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers.

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle, said Wood. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"Three Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score, Harry recited. "So-that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry who was determined to remember it all.

"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face.

"It's coming around."

Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, sending the bludger soaring straight for the goal hoops nearest them. The bludger made it throught the center most hoop.

"Not bad, Potter. You'd make a fair beater."

Harry grinned, but kept his mind on the bludger, as well as his eye. It zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely.

"Thees are the bludgers, nasty little blighters, aren't they?"

"The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins on ours—it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So—think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er-have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Eunice Murray, died in 1942 while playing for the Montrose Magpies. Got a bludger to the back of the head, and it broke his neck."

"But its never happened at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers—"

"—unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers—I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This," said Wood, as he held up the gold ball, "is the Golden Snitch, the only thing that I want you to worry about. It's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. They've got the hardest job, and they need to be the best fliers possible. If we had another possible seeker, I'd be half tempted to train you in the other positions. Be that as it may, we don't have the time."

Harry's lessons were becoming more interesting now that they had mastered the basics, he was glad though, for while his own unique arsenal of spells worked here, it was impossible to use them without attracting unwanted attention or suspicion.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone.

Ron looked awkward at this, but Harry didn't know why.

Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached th halfway point of the hall and slumped against the floor after gasping out, "Troll... in the dungeons, thought you ought to know!"

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately."

Percy was in his element. But Ron wasn't apparently, he remembered that Hermione was still probably in the bathroom, neville had mentioned it at the feast. They soon passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom.

"Can you smell something?"

Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seemed to clean.

And then they heard it—a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed-at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door and lock it.

"Yes!"

Flushed with their victory, they started to run back down the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop — a high, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom." Harry gasped.

"Hermione!" They said together.

Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and ran inside.

Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint.

The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the wall as it went.

"Distract it for a second, I'm going to try something!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, concentrating hard, he hoped that his magic would work the way he hoped.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it.

The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to use his magic.

"Come on, Firebolt!" Harry yelled, trying to form the magic into existence quickly enough. Seconds later an orb of flame was visible, after pumping enough magic into the attack, he aimed it at the trolls head and released it.

The results of Harry's magic was, needless to say, surprising. Ron, Hermione, and Harry watched as the orb of fire seemed to scorch its way like a drill into the troll's skin, deep enough for bleeding, but shallow enough that the troll was still alive, before the magic disappeared completely.

Harry knew that the Troll would continue to attack them until it was either, dead or unconscious, so he settled for dead. Using his magic once more, Harry focused into the perfect shape, for the already taxing wound, a spear. Shoving his magic down to form the spear, he watched as the spear shot forwards towards the target.

The spear hit a bulls-eye, perfectly. The spear was completely impaling the troll's head,

The club dropped, with a sickening crack, to the floor as the troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Hermione got to her feet. Harry was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his mouth still open, staring at what Harry had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"You— killed it?"

"I think so," said Harry.

"I think I'm going to be sick," said Ron.

He bent down and proceeded to throw up on the shards of a destroyed toilet.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up, well only two of them looked up, Ron was still throwing up.

They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone somewhere must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars.

Professor McGonogall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on the last toilet that was intact, clutching his heart. And as soon as McGonagall and Snape realized that the troll was dead and not unconscious, which was a very hard thing to do considering the pool of blood and the bone spear sticking out of it's head, they also had to steady themselves against the walls.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Her lips were white. and Snape's hair was beginning to pale.

"I hope that you have a very good explanation on who did this!"

Hermione spoke first. "I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own-you know, because I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand the moment he got off the floor. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now, not the troll. Harry killed it. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.

"Well, not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll, but I am still curious to how you could have done it..."

"I used magic professor..."

"It's a highly complicated bit of magic to be conjuring spears, Mr. Potter. How did you learn to do so?"

"Long story, do I have to tell it?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you have to..."

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, an hour later, after Harry explained how he taught himself this powerful magic. McGonagall awarded him 50 points for Gryffindor stating that an Auror would be hard-pressed to do better.

"Pig Snout," they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said Thanks, and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. Harry never knew what Hermione was doing in the bathroom, however. He had a sinking suspicion that Ron knew though.


	11. Queerditch

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 11 Quidditch

Harry didn't get a lot of sleep the night before his first match, but it wasn't pre-game nerves this time. He jerked awake after seeing a nightmare of the flaming ruins that once was his home. Panting, he stared up at the canopy over his silenced bed and waited for his pulse to stop racing. He wearily dragged himself down to the common room and worked on his latest letter to Ms. Figg.

When the November sun was finally visible over the mountains, Harry's nerves were settled from the nightmare. He was surprised to notice a mounting excitement as he ate a light breakfast, ignoring the concerns and jeers from his classmates.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"You still have to eat!"

Oliver's pre-game pep-talk confused the hell out of Harry, who wanted nothing more but to try and survive the game, the nervousness of his teammates wasn't helping his nerves at all. The twins nudged him as they left the locker rooms and headed out to the pitch, hoping that his knees wouldn't give way.

"Don't worry, Harrikins –"

"—we'll keep the Bludgers off you--"

"-though we know you can dodge them-"

"-as you were so apt to demonstrate—"

"From our last practice."

"We're veering from the topic oh brother of mine."

"Er, right. Anyway, we got your back—"

"So don't worry about it."

Harry smiled and waved to Ron and Hermione when he spotted them in the stands. Their home-made banner flashed in the sun, changing colours wildly. They waved back excitedly and Harry felt his heart soar. It was a great day to be flying. The thing that was better what he felt when he left the Dursley's.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," Madame Hooch said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year, who smirked nastily.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, and what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by Slytherin - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she'd really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goalposts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let out his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch.

Once he caught sight of a flash of gold but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasley's wrist watches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannon ball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously towards Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

"GO HARRY!" yelled James, springing up.

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downwards after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs - he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - he put on an extra spurt of speed - WHAM!

A roar of rage from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and Harry's broom span off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor.

But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating -"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul -"

"Jordan, I'm warning you -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger which went spinning dangerously past his head that it happened.

His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he though he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.  
It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off.

But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back towards the Gryffindor goalposts; he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time out - and then he realized that the broom was completely out of his control.

He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zig-zagging through the air and every now and then making violent swishing movements which almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherin score - oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Ron whispered to Hermione.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking, as he overheard Ron. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped. "Snape - look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" Ron said.

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned his binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to on of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell.

Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately, as he swivelled the binoculars towards Snape, his gazed stopeed for a moment on Quirrell, 'What the bloody hell is Professor Quirrell doing?' Ron thought.

Hermione fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front and ignited the tip of her wand shooting a flame at Snape, before disappearing.

Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket she scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

Harry went with speed as herushed his broom at Higgs, and slammed into the Slytherin Seeker. Up ahead the snitch decided to take a dive and plummeted towards the pitch, urging the Seekers to follow.

It stopped two feet from the ground, and Higgs pulled away at ten.

ing towards the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the pitch on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a strong cup of tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

"I don't know," he told Hagrid. "But he is definitely someone who I want to feed to that three headed dog on the third corridor."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"That thing has a name?" Asked Hermione.

"O' course he's got a name, he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the stone-"

"What Stone?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me any more," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"I bet that Snape's going to try to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -"

"Aha!" said Harry. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.


	12. The Book of Animagus

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 12 The Book of Animagus

Christmas was right around the corner. It wasn't until one morning in mid-December that Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake had been frozen solid and the Weasleys were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban, Quirrell was complaining about a double headache, two for the price of one.

Harry was relishing in the idea of his first Christmas without the Dursleys, which translated to his first ever Christmas.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions Friday, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches, pine needles sticking to his hair.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron." Hagrid said, "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?"

The Hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me - Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming from out of his wand and trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid following them out of the Hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel and that stone, we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We're just trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is, not what the dog's guarding!" said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book.

He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there.

Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for a fortnight, after all, but as they only had moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks, which in Harry's opinion was only at night.

Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, wont you?" said Hermione. "And you'll send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to next day for the food and the fun, but he was still not expecting any presents at all.

When he woke early next morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Happy Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his dressing-gown.

"You too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, not realizing that Harry expected less than exen rotted turnips, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry picked up the top parcel.

It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was: To Harry, from Hagrid.

Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second parcel confused Harry. Grabbing at it, he realized that Ms. Figg had sent him some Owl Treats and some Peppermint Pansy's, a chocolate shaped flower that melted into liquid peppermint when it was in your mouth.

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley jumper."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge.

"Every year she makes us a jumper," said Ron unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This left only one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.  
Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every-Flavor Beans he'd got from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they had gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in mid-air, his body completely invisible. He pulled the Cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died.  
It is time it was returned to you.  
Use it well.  
A Very Merry Christmas to you.

Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the Cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the Cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the Cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley jumper, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue jumpers, one with a large yellow F on it, the other with a large yellow G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's jumper. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving.

He had clearly come halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy jumper over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I - don't - want -" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the jumper over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the Prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his sides by his jumper.

Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic crackers were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats.

Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear-admiral's hat and several live, white mice.

Up on the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a grow your own warts kit and his own new wizard chess set.

The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.

Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds.

It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster.

Harry leant over the side of his own bed and pulled the Cloak out from under it.  
His father's ... this had been his father's.

He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed, grabbed some parchment and a quill, and wrapped the Cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Harry felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this Cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him?

Something held him back - his father's Cloak - he felt that this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor. Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library.

He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. He quickly put it out when he realized that he could try out the new spell that he read about the other day.

"Lumos." spoke Harry

From his wand a beam of light could be seen, but nothing else.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope which separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his wand to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He had to start somewhere. Checking the name on the nearest volume, he read, "Animalistic Qualities of Souls."

He tugged the book free of the shelf and cracked it open, reading a short bit of the first couple pages, Harry grew stumped at the word, "Animagus." Reading a bit more he realized that he was in for the time of his life, the book tells a wizard how to change into their soul's animal.

Scribbling down the instructions on the two potions listed, one that introduces a wizard to their animal and a second that prepares the wizards body for the first change, which gives the wizard firm control over their animal.

Setting the book back carefully on the shelf, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.

A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming!

Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on an on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside - leaving the shrieking book back on the floor, he ran for it.

He passed filch almost in the doorway; Filch's pale, wide eyes looked straight through him and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears, even as he heard the actual screams stop.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library; he hadn't paid any attention to where he was going.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library - the Restricted Section."

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a short cut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied.

"The restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the Cloak didn't stop him being solid.

He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope.

He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything.

They walked straight past and Harry leant against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close.

It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in, but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again.

He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself screaming.

He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.  
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder - but, still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she really was there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.

The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just like Harry's did.

Harry was now so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, nodding and smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, and even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -

Harry was looking at his family for the first time in his life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry as he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through and reach them.

He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here; he had to find his way back to bed.

He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

But the next day when Harry decided to visit the mirror, he found not only the mirror, but Dumbledore. Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of Harry's trunk.

The only good thing that came out of Christmas break is that now, Harry knew what to get Dumbledore for Christmas.


	13. Nicholas Flamel

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 13Nicolas Flamel

Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the Mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light while a high voice cackled with laughter.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams.

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!") and disappointment that he hadn't found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

Harry was glad he hadn▓t told her about the Animagus Book. He had started to gather up his ingredients for the two potions, and would be ready to brew it in a month or two. The first potion was designed to pass up the time needed to meditate on the chosen form, and the other gave the animagus control over his animal.

Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practice had started practice again.

Wood was working them harder than ever.

Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side.

If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just got very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

The rest of the team hung back to talk to each other as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him. "I need to concen-" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else could hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"All he needs is a cast Ron," Hermione pressed.

"What's a cast? Anyway... Harry... maybe you can figure out how to break both your legs..."

"I can't, and if i could i wouldn't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all. And I like walking thank you very much."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse.

He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone fell about laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet trembling.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked.

Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the Frog.

"Thanks, Harry ... I think I'll go to bed ... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?".

As Neville walked away. Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever -"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here - listen to this: 'Professor Dumbledore is particualrly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

Hermione jumped to her feet, pulled at her bag, and pulled out a book, an enormous, old book.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" said Ron, but Hermione silenced him with a glare, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.

At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! Here it is, Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorceror's Stone! It is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal."

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorceror's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorceror's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told Ron and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them ... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the pitch," said Hermione.

Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus two Thousand.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match.

Little did Harry know that Ron and hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd got the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

Back in the changing room, Wood had taken Harry aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the snitch it's now. I want you to finish the game before Snape can favour Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way Snape would dare to try and hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.

Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the pitch, something that Ron had noticed, too.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look - they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

⌠Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him.

Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.

"It's the people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"

"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly. "Harry -!"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crosses fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.  
Ron snapped.

Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping off her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape, she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Herry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes.

As Gryffindors began spilling on to the pitch, the entire school missed Snape crash into the pitch, pale, white-faced and unconscious... The twins would never tell anyone of the bludger they hid in Harry's shadow - then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror ... been keeping busy ... excellent ..."

He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet.

He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.

And Snape in a sickening heap by the Hufflepuff end of the stands... Potions would be cancelled during the next week. 


	14. Hagrid The Mother of a Ridgeback

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 14Hagrid The Mother of a Ridgeback

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping around in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe, they▓d seen Snape and Quirrell argue over the Stone earlier in the week and the idea that Quirrell was the only thing standing in the way of Snape didn▓t ease their spirits.

Harry had begun to prepare the ingredients that he needed to use in the potions for the animagus transformation. Some of the ingredients had been easy to find plant type ingredients, but one needed to be pickled in dragon▓s saliva!

Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days, Harry gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter. Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer▓s Stone. She had started drawing up revision timetables and colour-coding all her notes. Harry and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones.

It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her to get through all their extra homework. Harry was finding it hard to make sure that he wasn▓t out of practice with his own skills, and finding potion ingredients wasn▓t easy either. He had gotten all the ingredients prepared correctly after looking through all the extra ingredients that he convinced Ms. Figg to let him get during summer at Diagon Alley. He still needed the Dragon▓s saliva though.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who was looking up 'Dittany' in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once.

"An' hat're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer▓s St-"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've old yeh -"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working.

He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Irealnd; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"But it's against our laws to raise a dragon, right?" said Hermione.

"Dragon-breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania." Ron continued.

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hedridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our lot have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed.

Hagrid called, "Who is it?" before he let them in and then shut the door quickly behind them. It was stiflingly hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate.

Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. there was no point in beating about the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer▓s Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn't tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice.

Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really," Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that ... let's see ... he borrowed Fluffy from me ... then some o' the teachers did enchantments ... Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall -" he ticked them off on his fingers. "Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knew Ron and Hermione were thinking the same thing as he was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything - except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry notice him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it too.

"Hagrid - what's that?"

But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. "That's - er ..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the villiage havin' a few drinks an' got into a game of cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow.

"Got this outta the library - Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognise diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridegback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, in fact, he was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. So now they had something else to worry about, along with their finals and the stone: what might happen to Hagrid, if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

It was when a buzzing sound could be heard from about the fireplace. Hagrid began to looking giddy and excited.

"It's ready." He ushered them to look at the table as he placed the egg on top.

The egg was lying on the table. The egg began to move, creating deep cracks in the shell. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. Tha baby dragon flopped down on to the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Harry thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body and it had a long snout with wide nostrils, stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. a couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

It hiccuped, and a cloud of black smoke followed.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmered. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" said Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.  
Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Harry, Ron and Hermione very nervous. They spent most of their free time in hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils.

Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes.

"Oh look he knows his mummy now. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly, "give it a fortnight and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I - I know I can't keep him for ever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

"Charlie," he said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No - Charlie - your brother Charlie. in Romania. Studying dragons. We could sent Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then pout him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. the clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had been down to Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron,

How are you?

Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some fiends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they musn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,  
Charlie

They looked at each other.

"We've got the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry. "I don▓t want to worry about you guys though, I can do it alone."

⌠Harry, are you madder than Hagrid, I just got bit by the little blighter!■

⌠If you remember correctly, I took down the bloody troll with a spear made of bone, I think that I can do this alone, this way if anyone gets caught its only one set of points removed. Don▓t want to get Gryffindor back while we▓re ahead do we?■

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy.

There was a hitch.

By next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognise a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry and Hermione rushed to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog but I don't think she believes me - I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Harry, but this didn't soothe Ron at all.

On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no - oh no - I've just remembered - Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Harry and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We have to risk it. And I've got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

They found Fang the boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail and a burn on his backside when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage - nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot - jus' playin' - he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and Harry was a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because he had to wait for Peeves to get out of his way in the Entrance Hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey. An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.," said Hagrid in a muffled voice, as Harry summoned a skeleton, promising Hagrid an explanation later.

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and the skeleton covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it. "Mummy will never forget you!"

How he managed to get the crate back up to the castle, he never knew. Midnight ticked nearer and nearer as he heaved Norbert up the marble staircase, then another - even one of Harry's short cuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted to himself, as he reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of him made Harry almost drop his end of the crate.

Forgetting that he was already invisible, he and the skeleton shrank into the shadows, with Harry staring at the two outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan dressing-gown and a hairnet, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you-"

"You don't understand, Professor, Harry Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until he'd stepped out into the cold night air, did he throw off the Cloak and dispell the skeleton, glad to be able to breathe properly again.

Chuckling about Malfoy, he waited. Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them.

They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry shook hands with the others and thanked them very much, after signing autographs, of course.

At last, Norbert was going ... going ... gone. 


	15. The Forest Forbidden

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 15 The Forest Forbidden

Things could have been worse. Harry could have been caught on the way from the tower to the Common Room, but instead he got caught trying to retrieve his cloak from the tower. Luckily it was just as he was leaving the Common room that McGonagall caught him.

How could he have been so stupid as to forget the Cloak?

There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for his being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes.

Things could have been worse, when Professor McGonagall appeared, she was with Neville.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag-"

Professor McGonagall looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the two of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Its one o'clock in the morning. I would tell you to explain yourselves, but I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some -and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him."

"I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

"Um, Professor, I don't mean to rude, but isn't it a little weird to say that if I'm just leaving the common room now?"

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Three students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing since your father was here, Harry! Your mother would not be pleased, if she were here."

As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. Both of you will receive detentions - yes, you too, Mr Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Yes, Professor" Harry gasped - they would be very close to losing the lead, the lead he'd won in the last Quidditch match, they were about ten points away from Slytherin now.

"Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this?

Harry didn't sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours. Harry couldn't think of anything to say to comfort him. He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

Luckily, Gryffindors passing the giant hour-glass that recorded house points next day thought nothing of the points missing and put it to the side as some idiots getting caught by Snape in the dungeons again, no one would admit to that.

Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead.

As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.

"No - no - not again, please-"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right - all right -" he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry.

He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Herry told them what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell-"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here, telling you how to get past a three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" said Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Hallowe'en and that he was nowhere near the third floor - who do you think they'll believe, him or us? Its not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone ot Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around -"

"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter towards him and started to learn the names of it's moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry and Neville at the breakfast table. They were both the same:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the Entrance Hall.  
Prof, M. McGonagall

At eleven o'clock that night he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there -and so was Malfoy.

Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had got a detention, too.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he continued, leering at them.

"Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief mush have shown on his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the Forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things there - werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you? But don't worry, werewolves haven't been in the forest for ages... Rumor has it that Darker things are in there, and that in the center of the forest an evil lives... It being so frighteningly evil that no one has ever returned from it."

Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry?"

"I shoildn't be too friendly with them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they are here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be writing lines or something. if my father knew I was doing this, he'd-"

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Writin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment.

He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a long narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the Forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. there's blood all over the place, it must've been staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid.

"So me, an' Harry'll go one way an' Draco, Neville an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practise now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path and Harry and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville and Fang took the right.

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver blue blood on the fallen leaves. Harry saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree-stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

Hagrid began to whisper. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt an' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and hoisted him off the path behind a towering oak. he pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby; it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground.

Hagris was squinting up that dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmered. "There's summat in here that shouldn't be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, Harry. He's a centaur."

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"A bit," said Harry.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid glancing up too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter teh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The Forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and - bodied and wilder looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? Only there's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skywards.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry followed him out of the clearing, staring over his shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy star-gazers. Bloody donkeys. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Harry.

"Oh, a fair few ... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if I ever want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs ... they know things ... jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Harry nudgeg Hagrid's leg.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"Come on!" Hagrid shouted. "We'll find them!"

Harry heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and did his best to keep up.

A minute dragged by and at last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid and Harry's arrival to Malfoy, Neville and Fang. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, laughing, seemed to have sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Neville, you stay with me, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot.

"I'm sorry," Hagrid added in his softest whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we gotta get this done."

So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick.

Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look -" he murmered, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was a unicorn all right, and it was dead.

Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered ...

Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood, teeth seemingly glowing.

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang.

The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front.

It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him - he couldn't move for fear.

Then a pain pierced his head like he'd never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire - half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure.

The pain in Harry's head was so bad he fell to his knees. it took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blonde hair and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Yes - thank you - what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. he looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, bleeding and livid, on Harry's forehead.

"You are the Potter boy," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a man on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves the Forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously.

"I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said, in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Harry didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" he asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry's questions.

They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail-hair in Potions., and in some advanced ones they've got hoof clippings"

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself and you will have but a half life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.

"But, who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed for ever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die.

Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who -"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he realized who the creature truly was...

"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-"

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?"

Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

"I'm fine," said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmered as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry slid off his back.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him.

Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for the pair to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake.

In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort ... and Voldemort's waiting in the Forest ... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich ..."

"Stop saying that name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done ... Bane was furious ... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen ... They must show that Voldemort's coming back ... Bane thinks firenze should have let Voldemort kill me ... I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off ... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a work of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune telling to me, and Professor Mcgonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. they went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over. When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his Invisibility Cloak folded neatly underneath them.

There was a note pinned to it:

Just in case.


	16. Through Trials and Tribulations

SERIESThe Time of a Sorcerer TITLEHarry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 16Through Trails and Tribulations

In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at an moment. Yet the days crept by and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the Forest. Neville and Ron had thought that Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the Forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their revision they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of magic. After one whole hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and the goblins that decided to wrongfully put them out of their misery and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out.

When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione, as they joined the crowds flocking out into the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learnt about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.■

Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterwards, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more revision," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning ... it means danger's coming ..."

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot. "Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important.

When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I realised we'd done that one."

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters.

Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy... never... but - Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had gone white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

⌠Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? How many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pocket? Why didn't I see it before?"

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? got time fer a drink?"

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "Never saw his face under that cloak of his."

He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the villiage. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he?."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mights ▒a come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah ... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here ... he asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after ... so I told him ... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon ... an' then ... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks ... Let's see ... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted ... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home ... so I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy ..."

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the Entrance Hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to -" Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Harry thought.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do.

"Why?"

Harry swallowed - now what?

"It's sort of a secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared, she hates secrets.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" said Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer▓s Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that.

The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know -?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn - that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

⌠But Professor -"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly.

She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron wheeled round. Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.

"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can they? Not with Slytherin so close to topping their score, and the game is still two days away you don▓t want their seeker to have detention during a game do you?

Harry flushed. They turned to go back outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more night-time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staff room.

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!".

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter any more, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there. It's only dying a bit later than I would have done, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

He glared at them.

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all three of us?" said Ron.

"All - all three of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful ..."

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

⌠No, they can and they will. I▓m the only one of us who they can▓t take off the Hogwarts admittance list, I▓m the boy-who-lived remember? After dinner, I▓m going down the trapdoor, alone, I▓d rather not have to worry about the two of you. And if they do decide to expell me I can take care of myself, remember the troll?" That remark didn't incur an argument.

This was the first night he hadn't been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments that Harry ▒alone▓, was about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn' talk much, they just played chees to relieve some stress. ▒Both▓ of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy - singing wasn▓t his forte.

He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -"

⌠You guys aren▓t coming with me, bad enough that I let you sit here with me-■

"No one will be going anywhere. What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room.

Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back.  
Neville stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go back to bed, Neville?"

Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. He couldn't afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville. "I don't think that there should be any more breaking rules! Next time you'll break enough for all of Gryffindor to suffer for it. And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing"

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turned to Hermione.

"Do something," he said desperately.

Hermione stepped forward.

"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."

She raised her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville.

Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. his whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?■ Harry whispered.

"It's the full Body-Bind," said Hermione miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," said Ron as he made to pulled on the Invisibility Cloak.

⌠What are you-■

⌠We▓ve been caught aiding and abetting,■ Hermione said, ⌠you aren▓t going anywhere without us.■

Harry swore under his breath.

In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs Norris turned her lamp-like eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. he narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you a ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." And he scooted off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispered Ron.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," said Harry quietly. "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.

"You guys should go back if you want, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ron.

"We're coming," said Hermione.

Harry pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Harry. "Well, here goes ..."

He put Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fellon its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the Cloak and crept towards the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.

"Ugh!' they said.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!"

"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione said anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Ron. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione, so she can keep him asleep."

Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled with a twitch, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom.

He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"

"Right," said Ron.

"See you in a minute, I hope ..."

And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and - FLUMP. With a funny sort of thump he landed on something soft.

He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.

"It's OK!" he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. "It's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry.

"What's this stuff?" were his first words.

"Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!"

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.

"We must be miles under the school," she said.

"We would have died if we fell that far Hermione-"

⌠Look at you both!"shrieked Hermione.

She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound round them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant curling around his neck.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" gasped Harry, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare ... What did Professor Sprout say? It likes the dark and the damp-"

"Firebolt!" Harry choked.

An orb of billowing flame grew in front of their eyes, as Harry stopped struggling to concentrate on conjuring the flame, the Devil▓s Snare began to pull back around them until Harry concentrated on the orb shooting to the base of the plant, destroying it completely.

"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway which was the only way on once his throat opened up.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downwards and Harry was reminded of Gringotts.

With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully grown dragon - Norbert had been enough ...

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.

Harry listened. A soft rushing and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know ... sounds like wings to me."

"There's a light ahead - I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy, wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry.

"They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once ... Well, there's nothing for it ... I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. They all looked at each other, puzzled. He reached the door untouched. he puled the handle, but it was locked. The other two followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora Charm.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds ... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - glittering?

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly, "they're keys! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean ..."

He looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "... yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Ron examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle."

"That one!" Harry yelled, pointing. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Harry walked over to the brooms, knowing instinctively, that he had to ride it, but also knwing that something wasn▓t right, ⌠It▓s too easy...■

But he grabbed the broom, and immediately knew why... The keys went crazy, they pelted him repeatedly, seizing the broomstick, he kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"Get ready to catch the key!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off they key with the damaged wing. "Right, NOW!"

Grabbing the key Harry maneuvered the broom in their direction and tossed the key at them before flying in the opposite direction, directing the keys away from the bewildered duo on the ground.

When Ron and Hermione had opened the door enough for him to pass through he rocketed back towards the door and made it inside before they closed it. The only noise after that was the sound of a hundred keys nailing themselves into the door.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all.

They made their way past the dim torches that lit the floor and stepped onto a tiled platform, making their way past the dimly lit pillars, that resembled men. Making it past the first two sets of pillars, the lights of the room shined brightly, revealing where they were.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, in front of the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone.

Facing them, across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Hermione whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Harry, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life.

The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Harry.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?"

The black knight nodded.

Harry turned to the other two. He said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of three black pieces ... What do you think, Ron?"

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly, not reminding Ron that he almost beat him last time. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go near to him instead of that king▓s side castle."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, face down.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy.

Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry and Hermione were in danger.

He himself darted around the board taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think - let me think ..."

The white queen turned her blank face towards him.

"Yes ..." said Ron softly, "it's the only way ... I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one move forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was nothing else for it.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard around the head with her stone arm and he crashed to the floor- Hermione screamed but stayed on her square - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. they had won.

The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look at Ron, Harry and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's -?"

"He'll be alright," said Harry, trying to convince himself. "What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare - Flitwick must've put charms on the keys - McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive - that leave's Quirrell's spell, and Snape's ..." They had reached another door.

"You all right?" Harry whispered. Which Harry pushed it open. A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head. He pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry looked over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two of our number hold only nettled wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tried to hide You will always find some on nettles wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, are all different size,  
Neither dwarf or giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here for ever."

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Hermione read the paper several times. then she walked up and down the line of bottled muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she slapped her forehead.

⌠Merlin, I▓m stupid, Since 2 and 6 are the wines, because of the twin tastes, 1 and 5 must be poison by default, leaving the last poison number 3 which is bottle number three and matched in size to number 2, leaving number 4 and 7 the tickets forward and back. And since number seven doesn▓t allow you to go forwards, number 4 does,■ she said. ⌠The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - towards the Stone."

Harry looked at the tiny bottle, after thinking that she▓d gone mental. "There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

They looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line, lucky number 7.

"You drink that," said Harry. "No listen - get back and get Ron - grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we▓ll need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him really."

"But, Harry - what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione's lip trembled and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione!"

"Harry - you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and, both of us know that I could never conjure fire and all these other things that you can - oh Harry - be careful!"

"You drink first," said Harry. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Harry anxiously.

"No - but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck - take care -"

"GO!"

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire. Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames.

"Here I come," he said and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flamed licking his body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there - but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't Voldemort. It was Quirrell. 


	17. The Man With Two Faces

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer▓s Skill CHAPTER 17 The Man with Two Faces

"You!" gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought - Snape -"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he?

So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Harry couldn't take this in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't.

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at the Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell cooly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really ... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor winning, he did make himself unpopular ... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe'en like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running about looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."

"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harry realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmered, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this ... but he's in London ... I'll be far away by the time he gets back ..."

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. Since his hands were bound he couldn▓t very well summon skeletons or Golems to help him, his wand was in his pocket, and - wait - he could still conjure fire, ice and lightning, and his telekinesis attacks were thankfully still in the overdrive/experimentation stage.

"I saw you and Snape in the Forest -" he blurted out, keeping Quirrell▓s attention away from the orb that was beginning to form behind Harry▓s body.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side ..."

Quirrell came back out from behind the Mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone ... I'm presenting it to my master ... but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the Mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you ..."

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

"I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was.

There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it ... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. he has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly.

"He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me ... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me ..." Quirrell's voice tailed away, before he cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand ... is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry's mind was racing. ▒What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment,▓ he thought, ▒is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it - which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I'm up to?▓

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes round his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. And his hands could easily touch the ground, pushing his energy out slowly the orb moved closer to Quirrell as he was still talking to himself. He quickly summoned a skeleton to cut himself loose. Standing he readied his concentration for a telekinesis attack.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

Before Harry allowed anyone to answer he forced the Firebolt/Telekinesis attack at the back of Quirrell▓s head smashing it against the seemingly unbreakable mirror.

⌠Why, Potter, could you not have waited until this body had gotten me my stone?!■ A voice bellowed, a voice that seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

Quirrell rounded on Harry. Blood gushing out of his lifeless eyes. His mouth was still closed. His hands reached up to remove the head dressing, as words were heard. Quirrell▓s body stood perfectly still as the head slowly did a 180. The face that Harry saw was serpentine and aristocratic at the same time. It was the face of Voldemort.

⌠If the foolish child wishes to play, we will.■

"Come here, Potter!■ Voldemort spoke, his words eminating power and dripping with control. Harry▓s body moved towards the mirror as his summon disolved into dust. "Before you die, I want you to know that you are not the first to master their Magic at so young an age. Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry looked towards the mirror pane in front of him. But Voldemort had no power over his tongue.

"I must lie," he thought desperately. "I must look and lie about what I see, that's all."

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban.

He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the Mirror and opened them again. He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket - and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - he'd got the Stone.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented. "I - I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Voldemort began to shout. "Tell the truth, Potter! What did you just see?"

Harry▓s concentratino on fighting the magic slipped, and so did Voldemort▓s control. He stumbled backwards.

"Don't be a fool," snarled Voldemort face. "Better save your own life and join me ... or you'll meet the same end as you parents ... they died begging me for mercy ..."

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly. His magic was too depleted for him to do more than magic with a wand at the moment.

Quirrell▓s body was still walking at him, so that Harry could see the evil face that was now smiling.

"How touching ..." it hissed. "I always value bravery ... Yes, boy, you're parents were brave ... I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight ... but your mother needn't have died ... she was trying to protect you ...

"NEVER!"

Harry sprang towards Voldemort, thrusting his hand down as he used the rest of the magic in his body in the shape of a spear that shot forward. The only thing that Harry could see after that was blood and something gold just above him.

Harry drowsily awoke in the Hospital wing, blinking. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry stared at him. Then he remembered. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! The Stone! Sir, quick you must hurry-"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I -"

"Harry, please relax, or Madame Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like an entire sweet-shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming.

"What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. Hagrid has sent you a token as well, a picture album, And I believe that your friends, Misters Fred and George Weasley, were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madame Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygenic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been here?"

"A few hours, Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried, as well as most of your Quidditch team, I do believe that they wish to know if you are fit to play tomarrow."

"But sir, the Stone -"

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?"

"We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I believe that I arrived just in time to see a bloody pulp, that once was Quirrell, off of you -"

"It was you."

"I feared I might be too late. Your magic was completly drained. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid that the effort involved had killed you. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die. Of course there are other ways, but they would not follow the dark path those lead to."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worse for them."

Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking ... Sir - even if the Stone's gone, Vol - ... I mean, You-Know-Who -"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share ... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some things I'd like to know, if you can tell me ... things I want to know that truth about ..."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well ... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day ... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older ... I know you hate to hear this ... when you are ready, you will know."

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign ... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection for ever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the window-sill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet.

When he had found his voice again, Harry said, "And the Invisibility Cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession and I thought you might like it."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things ... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else ..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape -"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy.. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes ..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt ... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quite even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace... Or maybe it was something even deeper?"

Harry tried to understand this, but it made his head pound, so he stopped.

"And, sir, there's one more thing ..."

"Just the one?"

"No, but how did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes ... Now, I believe that you have another question?■

⌠Yes, Sir, You saw what I had done in the third corridor to Voldemort correct?■

⌠Yes...■

⌠Then why do you insist on shielding me from the truth? Please tell me, I believe it would be best to learn of the truth now, and not after a time where that information might prove crucial.■

⌠Alas, you are correct.■ Dumbledore downheartedness seemed exponentially greater due to the absence of the jolly twinkle in his eyes. ⌠There was a prophecy made before your birth, I will still urge you to let me tell you the entirety at a later date. But I will tell you what Voldemort already knows.■

⌠Please, tell me, Professor.■

⌠It speaks of a child born to those that defied Voldemort 3 times, and that this ▒chosen one would have the power that ▒the dark lord knows not▓, a power to destroy the dark lord, forever. This is the entirety of what Voldemort knows, plus a little more. I will leave you to interpret it as you see fit, But it is certain that you the one spoken of in the prophecy.■ Harry noticed that Dumbledore▓s posture changed, as he began to speak again, ⌠Enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Earwax!"

⌠Welcome everyone to the last Quidditch game of the season! It▓s Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!■

Madam Hooch stepped out onto the field, and began the start of the greatest game that Harry Potter would ever play in Quidditch history, a game that lasted 10.6 seconds.

⌠GRYFFINDOR WINS!!!■

It was the best day of Harry's life, better than Christmas or knocking out mountain trolls ... he would never, ever forget tonight. For it was a night that Gryffindor won.

Harry had forgotten something in the Common room, so he was late running to the Entrance Hall, when everyone was leaving school. He made his way past the doors that lead there from the stairwells, Harry couldn▓t help but notice the eerie silence, Stepping over the center of the Hogwarts crest at the bottom of the stairs, broom and trunk pulled behind him, he found tha this body had froze.

A loud bell could be heard in the distance, and Harry noticed something strange. The hourglasses were righting themselves. When they were completely upside down, they glowed and a portal formed behind Harry sucking him backwards. He would see nothing of ▒Earth▓ when he awoke, he understood that, but why does he hear the name ▒EarthSea▓? 


	18. The Days of the Monthly Years

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 18 The Days of the Monthly Years

Stone floors can be cold sometimes. Of course, with magic they can be cold. But in a place made by father time itself, how cold the floor was never mattered. Harry Potter found this out the hard way.

He was laying face down on the cold stone floor of the room, the only things that he could see were two doors. And one was from his point of view, sealed shut, as if it had always been that way.

The other's posts were finely crafted, but the way that the wood door covered it made it seem more like a doorway, or a portal.

He could see his trunk as he stood. His broom was probably still haphazardly stored inside of it. But next to that was a small table like stool. With a band of some sort on top of it. Walking towards this band he noticed three clock faces. One of the faces was strange, but two seemed, normal. Except for the fact that they were unmoving, in other words stopped. The third, center face had a measurement, 11-11-00-05-54-33-03, the number was constant in changing as he watched it move like a mileage gauge in a car. After close inspection he realized that the numbers were really his exact age (years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds.).

Placing the band on his wrist he watched as it changed to a gauntlet that he could store his wand in, but along the spine the time keeping faces of the watch changed to mimic the gauntlet, but clearly visible all the same.

Noticing a slip of aged paper where the band, now gauntlet, once was, he picked it up.

'For every cycle of the sun that you spend in a world not your own, you will age a moon's cycle for each day of home. Be vigilant chosen traveler, time is not for or against you, but the evils of all worlds will be. You take with you only what your hand carries and what you mind holds. The door will not open for your true home, until an another's home can become your own.'

Harry read the slip, and watched as it began to dissolve in front of his eyes, he glanced once at the sealed door, instantly realizing that the door lead home, to the Dursleys, Ms. Figg, Ron, Hermione, and it especially lead to Hogwarts, his home.

Opening the trunk he pulled out a fresh pair of clothing, which he put on, the school cloak on top of it. He stuffed his wand into the socket on the gauntlet, and put a fresh bit of clothing into his school bag, along with all the chocolate that he had, if he had a sweet tooth, he'd blame Ron, or maybe Dumbledore. And in the side pocket of his bag he placed as much of his healing potions as he could, as well as the entire contents of the two finished animagus potions that he had finished the month prior. And glancing at the bag of gold in the top of his trunk, he stuffed that into his cloak pocket.

Pulling the invisibility cloak into the bag, he closed it and slung it across his shoulder, grabbing his broom and making his way towards the operable door. When he stepped up to the door he pulled the wood covering away, revealing a glowing pane of red glass, touching the glass, he felt and saw the ripple, which grew more wild with each tremor, until the pane of glass swallowed Harry into a new world, a world of magic and water, a world of EarthSea.

On the island of Gont, far away from the hustle of the port on the west of the isle, near the base of the mountain of Gont was a village, a humble village. The village of Ten Alders sat on the edge of the River Ar. A mile upstream, was the great sea.

At the mouth of this great river, a girl and boy sat, the girl, Diana, a strong lass, who cares greatly for the boy next to her, asks him a question. "Ged, you can trust me, I won't tell anyone, what's been bothering you so."

"I can't explain it, in my dreams all I see is that girl leading me down a passageway, all I can think of during my spare time is who she could be and where she is taking me." Ged answered.

Ged is a strong young man, he is twelve, almost thirteen. His 'aunt' the village witch, the healer, was found in a storm a long time ago. She remembers some old spells every now and then teaching Ged what she can ever since he showed an aptitude for learning magic.

Ged stands and pulls Diana up, keeping a hold on her hand he leads her to the village.

"We've not much time till supper, my father wants me to finish mending my aunt's pail."

"Ged, wait!" Diana stops. She points to a bundle of black that is floating in the river, "What's that?"

"I think that it's a person, we must get him to my aunt, she can help him." Ged looks and sees the floating body. Running up to it, he pulls the body to shore. Not stopping to look at the face of the body, he hoists him up and prepares to run. "We've got to hur-"

Ged stopped to stare over Diana's shoulder, "What's wrong? Ged?"

"We have to hurry, I don't know if this person is involved with the armies of the white brother, but they're here, and we must warn the village. But first we have to get this-" Ged looked at the face of the body they are holding. "boy to my aunt, she can help him."


	19. Wizards Amongst Us

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 19 Wizards Amongst Us

When Harry awoke he never realized that headaches could be so painful, he was in a warm environment, no doubt about that, but what bugged him was the faces that stared down at him, they were all very unfamiliar, so unfamiliar, he had never seen a face like theirs before, they were the faces of pure reverence.

Above him he saw a black man's hand, and looking around he saw the black man. The man was as homely as he was humble. Ogion, was this man's name, and from the staff that Harry saw standing next to the man, this black man was a wizard. And the faces of awe and wonder and reverance, those were of muggles.

Across the crowded and small room was a boy just older than Harry, lying on a table, in the same confused state that Harry was in. They locked eyes for a moment before Harry broke the room's stunned silence.

"Anyone know where my stuff is?" Harry watched as a young boy walked from behind a woman's legs and handed Harry his bag and broom, before scurrying off to the woman's leg once more.

At once the people in the room began to fuss about Harry, handing him food and drink. When he and the other boy, whose name he learned to be Ged, had begun to grow tired a man who resembled Ged stood and spoke.

"You are no common man!" The bronze smith said to Ogion.

"These boys are not common either." Ogion turned to Ged, but spoke to the whole room. "The deeds against the Karg armies by this young one in the work of fog has reached my home, and I understand that he has not been named, so I wish to give him his name."

The elderly witch, who was the 'sister' of Ged's father, Dunain, spoke in hushed tones. "Brother, this is surely the Mage of Re Albi, Ogion the Silent, he who tamed the Great Earthquake."

"Sir, my son will be thirteen this month coming, but we thought to hold the naming until then."

"Let him be named, for he needs his name." Ogion then turned to Harry, "Have you been named as well young one?"

"Only the name given at birth, sir. I wasn't aware that any other name was possible."

"I feel that your magic is much stronger than most at maturity, You will need your name as well. I can feel that you will need the power that your name will give you."

"Power, sir? How does a name hold power?"

"If someone holds the name of the other, they are trusted not to control the will of the other, your name is your soul, you must have one."

"Who can name me?"

"You have already been named, you just do not know what that name is."

"May I name these boys now? I feel that they will have the most dire need of it."

"I may not be able to speak for that boy right there, but my Ged will be a blacksmith, he will not be a mage!"

"He will a mage of great power, his name will help him decide if the power he chooses and how he gets there is right."

"Then let them be named and remove him from my sight!"

"As you wish." Ogion walked over to Ged and whispered inaudibly to anyone, but Ged. 'Sparrowhawk.' Walking over to Harry he did the same, but only so that the name is audible to Harry, 'Ignisis.'

Harry knew that he would never forget the word, or the way he felt the power of that word rush past his ear.

"Your father has given his blessing Ged, you will pack, for I believe that this one is ready for the journey. "Are you not?" He spoke turning to Harry.

"I'm ready, but please call me Harry. That is the name I was given a birth."

"We will speak of how you have come to be hear when we reach our destination. I rather like stories."

"Yes, Sir."

And with that the three wizards set off. Ged was stopped before they reached the path beyond the river, that led around the mountain's foot. A young girl stopped him, She placed a small handmade hat on his head before she kissed his cheek and ran towards the village. Harry wanted badly to tease him as the two boys began to walk along the path, but the look of sadness at his loss, made Harry think it over.


	20. The Curious

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 20 The Shadows

Harry Potter was confused, when he had woken up from the coma that he must have been in (the watch-gauntlet stated he'd been under for a whole two days), he had woken up in a foreign land, he didn't want to start asking questions until he was sure that he could find someone that could answer them and not judge him. But the thought of that person being anybody but Dumbledore seemed to be thin, until he felt Ogion's presence.

The aged wizard had the same subtle gaze that made Harry wonder if the two could be some kind of mirror of each other over the dimensions. So when Ogion said that they would not question him until they were far away, Harry gave him a mental promise to do the same in respect to Ogion.

As they walked Harry began to see Ogion in even more welcoming light. The older was most humble and kind whenever a person walked by and asked for help. He did find it a little odd that the wizard who seemed to be so revered walked by foot, and not by magic. Harry began to believe that Ogion thought them too weak for most magical means of transportation. Unless this place has no magical ways of transportation.

Every odd shaped fern or bush had a name that Ogion pointed out as they walked. Harry soon realized that Ogion was trying to teach them of the more humble forms of Magic, like herbology, but Harry knew that once OWLs came, if he ever returned to 'Earth', that he would never touch Herbology again, It was a very tedious and boring subject.

For every theory that Harry began to develop of this world, Ged, the slightly older wizard next to him, began to develop doubts about Ogion's practicality as a teacher. On the forth day of Travel across the outskirts of the Mountain of Gont, Ged cracked. "When will the aprentinceship begin, sir?"

"It has already begun," the mage answered.

"But I haven't learned anything yet!" Ged exclaimed.

"Because you haven't found out what I am teaching." Ogion countered, as he began to continue down the final miles of the path once more.

"Have you any idea what the mage is going on about?" Ged asked Harry.

"Not really, herbology isn't exactly my best subject."

"Herbology, what's that?"

"The study of plants."

"So do know what he's talking about..."

"Not really, I'm not familiar with this place."

"How are you not familiar with Gont? Where are you from?"

"Earth."

"Is that past the ends of the sea? I thought that no one dared to come from there."

"I'm not sure where we are in relation to my home."

Ged, was still curious. Using his thirst to learn magic to fuel his curiosity.

"So, you can use magic?"

"Yes, I can. It seems to be a different type then what people here could possibly do."

"You think that you can teach me something, while we head to Re Albi?"

"Maybe..."

"One thing first... Why do you have a broom?" Ged Asked, confused, pointing to the Nimbus 2000 strapped to Harry's Knapsack. "It seems rather expensive and unused for something to sweep the floors with."

"That's because its not for cleaning."

"What else could it possibly be used for?"

"It's a means of travel..."

"You ride... a broom?"

"Yes, I do..."

"Isn't it uncomfortable?"

"There are charms on it to stop it from hurting..."

"Charms... You mean magic?"

"Yes, I do..."

"Can you show me how to do the charm?"

"I don't know how to do the charm."

"Then how'd you get the broom to fly, or be soft enough that it doesn't hurt?"

"I bought it made already."

"Oh..." Ged said, his awe vocalized. "Can I ride it later?"

"Sure, lets just wait until we get to Re Albi, if you don't know what your doing, riding a broomstick can be fatal."

"How's that possible?"

"You can fall off, or get hit the wrong way with a bludger..."

"What's a bludger?"

A long and annoying explanation of Qudditch later and the trio had reached Re Albi. It is a town on the high rocks of Overfell.

"Welcome to my home my young apprentices."

A/N:

Okay, I didn't want to do this but I will, I'm actually having an author notes section in the chapter, the last time I made an actual author notes chapter, I got confused and i'm sure that most other people did too.

To the loyalists of the sorceror's skill cause, I love you, respect you, and hope to God that any thing that I've decided to do with the story doesn't put you off.

To those who are taking the messed up chapters of first year a bit seriously close to flaming in their reviews, I'm sorry, but the reason most of my stories have stopped is because first year is the hardest to write au, there are sections that you need, and I don't like to skip stuff. It annoys me when other authors leave gaps.

As such if I continue to receive reviews that reflect the story but stay away from the sore topic of why the first year borrows too much from the actual book, or the previous problem of the marauders popping up...

I am doing my best to work on this story, while worrying about high school, college, my girlfriend, my job, and my position in the church.

And to those who are immensely curious about this fic, but are actually listening to the reviews, do not listen to them, and realize that I have until the end of seventh year to make sure that you will be drawn to my cause. Hahahahahahahhahahaahahaahhahahha...ha!

When I receive (blank) reviews, I will do the following things.

100 - post the names of all the planned chapters and what story, game, or year that they are from.  
200 - start the poll for the permanent pairings for every one else in the story.  
300 - rewrite first year for all the whiners, which may or may not force me to rewrite the rest of the story.

Harry is in dire need of having a girlfriend sometime during 2nd year. It's the perfect time, every possible girl is already at Hogwarts during second year. be warned that anyone that is chosen may either, be broken up with, or killed off entirely.

Review to decide who it is...

1 - Ginny.  
2 - Hermione.  
3 - Luna.  
4 - Parvati.  
5 - Cho.  
6 - Lavender.  
7 - anyone else, maybe a Slytherin like Pansy, or a fan girl like romilda?  
8 - OC, detail out a character, and send the stats to me, Harry might meet that person in one of his side quests during summer, if the persons stats are a certain way.  
9 - delaying the pairing to third year.  
10 - delaying the pairing to fourth year.


	21. The More Curious

SERIES The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 21 The More Curious

Over the next few days Harry and Ged began to get used to the lifestyle of the wizard hermit. They had their questions about each other answered rather quickly on the first day, and now Ogion was teaching them what he could about wizardry. They could easily spot the different plants, which was their only new skill, much to Ged's Chargin. He wanted to learn magic, and while Harry knew first year magic from Hogwarts, he had to admit, wizard life here was pretty boring.

Reaching into his bag to account for his supplies on the fifth day at Re Albi, he pulled his wand out of his gauntlet, holding it to the light so that he could inspect it. Sliding it back into the socket he began to concentrate on the small orbs that he remembered conjuring back in or on Earth.

As he was concentrating on the various colors, of the different elements under his command, he also concentrated on compressing them as much as possible. Soon enough, hovering over his open palm were small bead sized orbs of energy flying around in an invisible track, as Harry tried to keep the speed accelerating, he began to, accidentally, enlarge the orbs. But due the speed of the orbs, the closer the got, at larger sizes the easier it was for the attack-to-be...to collapse on its self. When Harry realized this, he began to start draining the power back out of the orb tornado, all the while exhausting his previously rested self.

Harry didn't realize that he had an audience for his experiment. When he finally felt the other two wizards gaze on his back, he turned around.

"You didn't mention how much control you had over these other powers of yours, Harry. For a wizard that can control such wild magic without a staff, it is strange to see such control." Ogion stated.

"Master, can you teach me what it is that Harry does?"

"No, I cannot. I may be wise and strong, but one does not always need Power to become a legend. And strength is not always Power. I have strength and I can teach you boys a great many things, but if it is Power that you seek, Roke may be a better place for you then here."

At Ged's wandering, embarrassed eyes, he continued, "Yes, Ged. I know that you seek to become a powerful wizard, not one for an island, but for all of Earthsea. And Harry is even younger than you are, with a world of his own to learn the more humble arts, you will both do better in Roke."

"Now before I send you off, you must be prepared for the arts that they will teach you there."

"The change will be easiest for Ged, but Harry I worry about you, most of our naming arts, have no large use for you, should you ever return to your home world."

"And as such, if our Powers which reside in knowning the names of what we alter cannot have meaning to you, then, most magics cannot have meaning to you as well."

"Do not worry, in my world, a spell, charm, or curse become easy if you can tap into your magic, if you can control it, if you can understand how to perform it. Just being able to see the magic that is yours would benefit me."

"It is refreshing to see such a humble outlook in one so young, I only wish that Ged will learn the same. Since this is his homeworld, his potential here surpasses what you could do here, his power, untapped, waiting to be unleashed and controlled... but most of all, not wasted on parlor tricks for daughter's of evil witches..."

"I told you Ogion, I'm sorry."

"No matter, I will feel much better if I knew that you had a staff at least before I let either of you travel to the island of wizards for more training."

"I am currently working on one for you Ged, one that I believe will be perfect for you... however, Harry, since you are of another world, I would prefer if you were to make your staff on your own."

"I understand, Ogion."

"I have all the supplies that you might need..."

"I will not let you down."

"Let your magic guide you and you will do fine."

"Yes, Sir."

Over the course of the next few weeks, the block of acacia wood that was five feet long and six inches thick on both sides had slimmed down considerably. Harry now had almost the entire staff completed. All that needed to be done was for the head of the staff to be completely carved out, as well as the entire staff polished.

Using the small carving tool that Ogion had let Harry borrow, Harry carved at the head of the staff shaping it, so that in the center of the head piece was a perfectly circular orb that would soon be polished down so drastically that it would look like glass. At the tip of the staff was the problem that Harry was currently solving, the orb needed to be filled with the solution and core that would be of Harry's staff, after traveling through the island of Gont, Harry found the perfect core, which along with his blood was ready to be placed inside the staff made of acacia. The hard part was to hollow out the orb without damaging the orb, or making it too thin.

An hour later found Harry sitting next to a fire, he grounded down the core (dragon heart and hardened sap from a holly tree), and mixed it in with his blood after heating it. Currently Harry was stirring the mixture waiting for it to be just before a hardening state. Quickly Harry grabbed the staff and used his magic to siphon the mixture into the orb, hardening almost the moment it touched the edges of the orb, coating it, making it the perfect container for a part of his magic.

According to Ogion that's what you needed, something strong enough to contain your magic, because your magic would grow to be partially stored into it. Making your reserves grow larger quicker.

Acacia wood was powerful, but was very temperamental if not used in construction just right.

A/N: v 2.0

Okay, some people are getting confused now, or they didn't get a chance to read my author note chapter before i replaced it.

once again, To the loyalists of the sorceror's skill cause, I love you, respect you, and hope to God that any thing that I've decided to do with the story doesn't put you off.

saying that the things are the same is the same as skipping, so drop it.

well whatever, one more thing, this is a multiple crossover, not just earthsea, i only put this story in so that i could get harry a cool staff... the next place will get harry some cool armor i think, and the place following will be when harry learns the animagus transformation(or I might just make it during this summer.), and also some powerful magic, and other stuff follows. i posted this in my a/n chappie which i got rid of cause i hate a/n's, that and i ramble.

When I receive (blank) reviews, I will do the following things.

100 - post the names of all the planned chapters and what story, game, or year that they are from.

200 - start the poll for the permanent pairings for every one else in the story.

300 - rewrite first year for all the whiners, which may or may not force me to rewrite the rest of the story, or something else.

once again i say that, Harry is in dire need of having a girlfriend sometime during 2nd year, OR just a crush. It's the perfect time, every possible girl is already at Hogwarts during second year. be warned that anyone that is chosen may either, be broken up with, or killed off entirely.

Review to decide who it is...

1 - Ginny.  
2 - Hermione.  
3 - Luna.  
4 - Parvati.  
5 - Cho.  
6 - Lavender.  
7 - anyone else, maybe a Slytherin like Pansy, or a fan girl like romilda?  
8 - OC, detail out a character, and send the stats to me, Harry might meet that person in one of his side quests during summer, if the persons stats are a certain way.  
9 - delaying the pairing until third year.  
10 - delaying the pairing until fourth year.

votes so far, remember this is not a permanent pairing.

1 I  
2   
3 II  
4   
5   
6   
7   
8 I  
9   
10 II


	22. To the School for Wizards

SERIES : The Time of a Sorcerer  
TITLE : Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Skill  
CHAPTER 22 : To the School for Wizards

Ged stood dumb, his heart bewildered. Right now he was standing in front of his mentor, recieving the gift that Ogion had prepared for him, a staff. Yew-wood and bronze shod.

It was moments like these that made Ged realize just how much of a figure that Ogion was to him, and that if Harry never came here, that he would only be closer to the mage in front of him.

Holding their staffs, Ogion led Harry and Ged to the Port of Gont fifteen miles away.

With a few words spoken to the ship's master, he agreed to take both Harry and Ged.

"Do either of you mages weave the winds of the sea?" The burly boatmaster shouted from his post at the stern of the ship.

"No, we do not..." Harry stated, "But if you have need of strong hands for the voyage to roke, I have means of creating the power needed..."

The burly man laughed at the thought of the two young boys taking up post at an oar, as he walked over to them.

"We have no need for oarsmen, yet... I do not wish for my men to grow soft, if a storm comes, your power may be of some use." He stated. "Do either of you have the craft of the needle? It is said that only the power of magic can find the island of the wizards without facing the terror of the seas..."

"Making sure that the ship is always headed for Roke is a simple thing." Harry gestured for Ged to follow him to the stern, pulling out his wand to use a simple 'point me' spell.

After days of smooth sailing, that Harry used to teach Ged how to use the 'point me' spell, which proved to be a hard thing to do without Ged's knowledge of the basics of Wizard magic, the winds of the sea began to pick-up and a storm began to brew, a hard storm, one that dripped of pure magic.

This storm resembled a hurricane or a typhoon, but the skilled Boatsmaster had precise control over his men, and used his time and energy to make sure that neither the ship, its crew, nor its passengers were threatened by the sea. 'Shadow' was the ship's name.

"You... mages! Hurry and summon the stength needed for the oarsmen! If your weaving of this strength is as great as your ability to keep a straight needle, we may yet make it through this storm with only a weathered mast!" The boat master cried out amongst his own crew's frightened cries.

"Master, there is no end to this darkness!"

"We must turn back to safety!"

"The island of Roke is a fool's dream, the dragon's nest of Fendor is a better dream to wish for!"

"Aye, Captain," Haryy answered pulling out a vial of dirt that he had gathered before boarding the vessel. Throwing the vial, he smashed it on the deck, concentrating his magic, he lifted his hand, summoning his minions like a skilled puppeteer.

Ged and most of the crew watched in anticipation, fascination, and fear as Harry summoned four skeletons onto the deck.

Harry could hear the screams from some of the younger sailors on the deck, as the skeletons resembled things that they'd only seen prior to this in their dreams.

"Please do not fear my creations, they are simply my magic given form!" Harry announced to the crew that seemed as if they would throw him and Ged off the ship.

"You heard the mage! Back to work with the lot of you!"

Harry turned to his minions, "Go, help the oarsmen!" Harry stood as the skeleton's each latched their weapons on to their backs, their faces were made of pale bone and sinister srins, all the color of ashen ivory, the crew idly wondered if it was because of the lightning made by the flashing lightning nearby along with the lighting from the torches burning on the ship, or if it was the decision of Harry's to make them look so deadly.

"Mage! Come here, I would like to have a word you." The captain called before receding into his cabin.

Harry called Ged to follow him as he answered the captain's call.

The ship rocked as the flame almost went out in the cabin. The candlestick swung back and forth like a pendulum, showering one side of the room in light and the otherside in darkness. The captain sat in his chair wondering exactly what to say.

"Boy, is there anyother surprises or deceptions that I should know about? I will not willingly endanger my men by harboring a dark conjurer on my ship! And I will not bring a wizard of darkness to the island of the mages."

"Did you not hear my explaination to your men? That was simply my pure magic given form, I have told this once already to your men. You must remember this!"

"I have traveled many a time to the Island of Wizards and have also at once been in the company of many of the great archmages that have graced the school, and never once have I heard of this type of conjuring. I know that the summoning of the dead is not allowed!" The Captain's eyes darkened. "I am not a lamb to be lead slaughter. I know when someone conjurers death! It is not possible to create the dead out of nothing!"

"It is in the world where I come from!" Harry's nose flared hot with red color. "I come from a place where magic is done by will and not by constraints, I was not trained to create magic in this way... I simply can!"

The darkness of the man's eyes lessened as something clicked in his mind.

"The Mage of... Obvoiusly, you have been done wrong by me and I apologize. I simply treat this place... this ship as my home and my men are my family. I have done Ogion and you a great disservice by questioning your motives by misunderstanding your unknown power."

"Thank you, captain... I wish to apologize as well for shouting at a fellow mage..."

Surprise could be seen on the eyes of Ged and the captain. "I was dismissed before I ever finished my schooling. Your powers are vastly different from those of this place, if you were able to discern such from my knowledge. My magic has long since vanished from my hands and eyes."

"You still have more in the ways of magic from this world than either of us." Harry began to turn calling to the slightly older boy next to him. "Come on, Ged. Lets go help the oarsmen..."

The captain sat staring off after the young sorceror. "I wonder if he knows that no power on Earthsea can create that which he has done."

After leaving the dock on the lower rocks of Roke later on that week, both Harry and Ged made their way up the winding streets to the center courtyard of Roke where the Gatekeeper of the School was said to be.

They passed many street vendors on their way up the winding streets. Once the two wizards had gotten into view of the large wooden archway of the gate keeper, Ged had stopped Harry and looked quizzically at the pile of rubbish that this certain vendor had heaped onto the floor in front of his stand. Grabbing a durable thin strap of leather from the top of this pile, Ged tossed the vendor one of the small bronze coins, which were half the size of a knut, that Ogion had given him.

Looping the strap through the hole in a small charm that he pulled out of one of his pockets he signaled to Harry that he was ready to continue on to the school.

On the next market corner stood a great building, one which supported two great doors made of what seemed to be the same tree. Ged and Harry went ot this door and knocked hoping that this was the entrance to the wizard school.

A/N: v 4.0

yeah, its january. and its been a really long time since the last time i've updated any story, i want to say that with this post, i've rewritten all of the previous flaws in the chapters and even in the ones without flaws that have been pointed out to me.

thanks guiys for sticking with the story. i hope that i can continue to post with a frequency that hasn't been seen since i first started these stories... thanks.

i want to let you know that i've been trying to rewrite the first arc of my story without errors and focusing more where i should be... and i've just gotten caught up with all of them!

i've got school now, lots and lots of work in college. i'm doing my best to keep with this though.

once again, To the loyalists of the sorceror's skill cause, I love you, respect you, and hope to God that any thing that I've decided to do with the story doesn't put you off.

uhh, this is were the polls were, but i've been so out of the loop that letting you guys pick the pairing is too hard on me, its bad enough that i've got to worry about so many other things happening in my life, but i don't have the heart to give these stories up, so i will trudge on...


	23. Author's Note

warning don't reply on this chapter, just pretend in only exists in the corner of teh mind that tells you to do stuff

okay this is it, i'm tired of people telling me about how crappy this story is, how i'm making stuff pop out of my but, and about how i suck as a writer

what's with the marauders?  
what's with earthsea?  
what's with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness??

here's the scoop. when i was writing the first year stories, i used an old "maruader's read about harry's first year from the book" story, cause i had severe writer's block and couldn't pull a story out of my own butt.

i was tired, in high school and didn't have time to write a 1/4 page list on why i liked my girlfriend.

i was picked on... suicidal... and almost killed myself like 6 times...

SO BACK OFF!!

i've apologtized about eleven times i think... and still have gotten like 20 reviews and 30 pms.

STOP IT!

i happen to be going through the same thing right now, and frankly i'm going to go over on more editing spree and if i don't get it right, i'm never going to publish something on fanfiction . net ever again.

thanks,

this is cursedpurity, saying

SMOKE YOU!

if this is not hp and the sorceror's skill then i apologize for you having to read this, and will be rewriting these stories as well.

as well as every other one to ever exist on fanfiction . net 


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